


You Could Be My World

by chooken



Series: Lending Me Your Love [3]
Category: Westlife
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Anal Sex, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Banter, Boss/Employee Relationship, Bottoming from the Top, Boys Kissing, Brothels, Cigarettes, Codependency, Coffee, Cohabitation, Conversations, Dentists, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Facials, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Foursome - M/M/M/M, HIV/AIDS, Hand Jobs, Illnesses, Infection, Infidelity, Kissing, Leather Trousers, M/M, Marcky, Married Couple, Matchmaking, Multi, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, Past Rape/Non-con, Prostitution, Pugs, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Same-Sex Marriage, Shian, Sleeping Together, Sleepy Cuddles, Smoking, Snogging, Video Cameras, Vomiting, Voyeurism, health scare, reverse cowboy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3483470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything's fine following Mark and Nicky's first anniversary.  But within days they get news that will make them re-evaluate their entire relationship and just how far they're willing to go for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sunday

“You smell good.” Mark whispered.

Nicky grinned, pushing into the warm, comforting body swaying gently against his. Hands slid under his jacket, thick, talented fingers taking up residence in the small of his back. He leaned into Mark's touch, sighing contentedly.

“I smell like you.” Nicky murmured back. “I smell like you just humped my leg in the toilets.”

“Good smell then?”

“Very good.” Nicky confirmed, turning his head so he could suck at Mark's collarbone. He was trying to be discreet, but it was so hard when a hand was sliding up his back, strong fingers caressing his shoulder blades. “You smell like I want you to fuck me when we get home.”

Mark snorted, pressing dry, soft lips to Nicky's forehead.

“We're married, Nix. There's no bloody rush.”

“Says the guy who just humped my leg in the toilets.” Nicky retorted. He glanced around. The anniversary party was dying down now. It was past midnight, well into Sunday morning. There were a few stragglers still hanging around though, most of them propping themselves up on other people's lips. Shane had disappeared not ten minutes before, his hand down some guy's pants, his new friend's hands tangled in his jacket, their mouths clashing like they were trying to eat each other.

“A whole year.”

“A whole year.” Nicky echoed, feeling how strange that sounded on his tongue. “And I still like you and everything.”

“No way.”

“I know, I can't believe it either.”  
  
“I mean, god, I barely tolerate you.” Mark joked. Nicky smiled, tilting his head up to capture that smirking mouth, the kiss slightly clumsy with alcohol. “I love you. Like, I love you to the point where it's a bit sad.”

“I'm pretty sure I'm obsessed with you.” Nicky replied, sinking his forehead into Mark's shoulder. The hand under his jacket stroked along the top of his leather trousers, making him shiver when it tickled the light dusting of hair there. “If we weren't married, I'd probably stalk you.”

“That's the most romantic thing anybody's ever said to me.” Mark drawled. His free hand cupped the back of Nicky's head, holding him in. They weren't even really dancing any more, just sort of idly swaying on the spot. Nicky wasn't even sure if there was music. Not for the first time, he'd become completely distracted by Mark. By his presence, his scent, the feel of him, the sound of his voice. It was a bit intoxicating.

“What about that time I said you smelled like wet dog?”

“That was a pretty emotional moment.” Mark laughed. “I had just finished giving Saffy a bath, though, so it would have been surprising if I didn't. And you still shagged me anyway, if I remember right.”

“I made you shower first.”

“You shagged me in the shower.” Mark corrected. “And then you slipped on the soap and ripped the shower-curtain off the rail on the way down.”

“And I was fine, thanks for checking. You know, instead of laughing your arse off.”

“I checked first. You were fine.”  
  
“I bruised my arse.”

“And I kissed it better.”  
  
“You did.” Nicky looped his arms around Mark's neck, looking up fondly at the younger boy. A kiss brushed his lips. He returned it, smiling. “You can do that again tonight, if you like.”

“Why, did you hurt yourself?”

“Nope.” Nicky kissed him again. Then again, because Mark's lips were still right there, and he couldn't help himself. “I'm very okay.”

“I'm quite okay, too.” Mark nodded, initiating the kiss this time. Nicky returned it, feeling stubble scrape his hand where he cupped Mark's cheek. “Back to work tomorrow. You ready?”

“Sort of. Yes. No.” He'd really enjoyed having the two weeks off. Mark had turned thirty on the second day, and now with their anniversary capping it off, it had been a bit heavenly. Still, Nicky had to admit he was looking forward to getting back to it. He was terrible at being on holiday. He got all fidgety and had to stop himself calling in to make sure everything was okay. Not that Mark wasn't good at distracting him. They hadn't had this long together in a row since their honeymoon, and Nicky had forgotten how horny Mark got when he wasn't working. Going from having sex four or five times a day every day at work to... well, Nicky wasn't exactly slack in that department, but there was a limit to his stamina. “Are you looking forward to going back?”

“Yeah, sort of. No.” Mark kissed him again. “It's been nice, this.”

“Even though you're old now?”

“You're still older, so I'm still young.” Mark reasoned. “I'm going to be too old for the job soon, though. Nobody's going to want to fuck me.”

“Anybody who doesn't want to fuck you is obviously insane.” Nicky reached up, running his hands through Mark's hair. He'd let it grow a little bit while they were on holiday, and there was just enough to get a grip on.

“You're insane.”

“Can't be. I want to fuck you. That's the opposite of insanity. Keep up.”

“Sorry, must be slow.”

“I can do slow.” Nicky captured Mark's lips again, _slowly_ kissing him, his tongue sweeping out and gently tickling Mark's upper lip, his mouth moving against Mark's lips in a way that was less teasing and more of a long, soft massage. He felt a quiet moan vibrate against his skin, and tried to tangle his hands in hair that wasn't long enough to get a grip on. Long fingers dipped into the back of his trousers. He returned Mark's moan, parting his lips to allow his husband's tongue access. “I can do you.” He murmured, when he pulled away.

“Not if I do you first.” Mark replied. Nicky glanced around. The club was emptying out. The only ones left seemed to be Bryan, who was leant against the jukebox talking to some flavour of the month, and a couple of girls who he seemed to remember were cousins of Mark's. “Want to get out of here?”

“It's our party. It'd be rude.”

“It's our party. We can go whenever we like.” Mark leaned in, kissing Nicky's ear. “I want you to fuck my mouth.”  
  
“Jesus.” Nicky shuddered. “That sounds pretty excellent.”

“It does.” Mark agreed. “But I want you to do it at home, not in the toilets. Because once you've come on my face, I want to hold you down and fuck you on the kitchen table.”

Nicky swallowed, nuzzling into Mark's chest to hide his sudden flush of arousal.

“Hold me down?”

“Uh huh.” Mark ducked his head, nibbling Nicky's earlobe gently. “Gonna hold you still while I fuck you.” His hands caught Nicky's wrists, pulling them in front of him and squeezing like a promise. His teeth scraped down Nicky's neck. “Not letting you go anywhere.”

“Wasn't planning on going anywhere.” Nicky groaned, pushing into the teeth on his throat. His wrists were being held in one hand now, Mark's other hand holding the other side of his neck and forcing him into the gentle, scraping bites. “Oh...” He mumbled, feeling the suck of lips on his collarbone. “We need to get out of here.”

Mark pulled back, his eyes dark. He licked his lips. Nicky tried not to come in his pants.

“Now. Go.”

Nicky nodded, already headed for the door.

 

*

 

Nicky smelled amazing. Mark yanked leather trousers down until they got stuck on strong, sweaty thighs, the material too sticky in the heat they'd built up between them in the cab. It had been almost impossible not to yank them down in the back of the car and fuck Nicky against the back of the driver's seat. He wasn't even sure how much he'd given the cabbie, just knew that he'd thrust half the contents of his wallet into the driver's hand, ignoring the surprised look they were given when he'd practically dragged Nicky out of the cab and up to the front door.

He nosed Nicky's cock, burying his face in slick, slightly hairy flesh after he finally managed to wrench the trousers over Nicky's feet and into a heap on the floor. Felt the shudder above him, heard the soft cry when he mouthed the head for a moment and then sank down. He'd decided against the kitchen table after all, not at all sure that it would hold their weight, and instead had shoved Nicky onto the couch, laughing at the surprised yelp when Nicky had tipped over the arm and landed on his back, legs kicking clumsily in the air. Then he'd yanked those legs around to the front, pushed Nicky's heels up to sit on the seat, and gone down on him, breathing in Nicky's scent the whole time.

“Jesus, Mark.” Nicky managed, his hands sliding through Mark's hair before getting a fumbling grip on the back of his head. “Don't stop doing that.”

Mark didn't. He opened his mouth wider, drawing Nicky in as deep as he could. He looked up, catching wide blue eyes and a gaping mouth. Nicky butted the back of his throat, and he swallowed around him, heard the soft, stammering cry. Thighs clamped on the side of his head, muffling the sounds of the hoarse, bitten-off gasps, forcing his head down and gazes apart. Surrounded on all sides by Nicky, a hand on the back of his head.

“Marky...” Nicky took a long slow breath. One that sounded calm and unaffected, but Mark knew the tremble in it, the way Nicky's back was arching. Knew the sound, the feel, of Nicky trying to calm himself down, draw this out. Even with thighs pressed against his ears, he knew that sound. Five years later and it was still amazing. “Ah!” He blurted, his hand tightening on the back of Mark's head. “Yeah, that's...” Mark looked up again, dropped a wink at Nicky, and then paused, waiting.

Nicky paused too, staring down at him. His hand caressed Mark's hair for a moment, and then Mark felt the pressure, felt Nicky's hips come forward, the slick slide of hot, heavy arousal on his tongue, against the back of his throat. Nicky's eyes closed, his head going back while he slowly began to fuck Mark's mouth.

Mark wanted to say something. Maybe a general compliment about how Nicky's cock felt in the back of his throat, because god knew it felt amazing. Nicky's taste was blooming on his tongue whenever he pulled back, painting along the roof of his mouth when he pushed forward. Nicky's head lolled forward, his eyes opening to meet Mark's.

Mark looked back, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to with his gaze. That he loved Nicky. That he worshipped him. That the feeling of Nicky under him, around him, was pretty much where he wanted to be for the rest of his life. That Nicky's thighs were sort of crushing his head. That he didn't mind, because he was pushing hands under Nicky's arse, and the feeling of firm muscles clenching around his fingers when he trailed them up that slick, sweaty valley was maybe the best thing ever.

Nicky wasn't breaking eye-contact. Mark stared back, wanting to kiss the soft moans away. He ran his tongue around the head instead while Nicky thrust into his mouth, moving faster, pouting lips slack and wet, lips parted.

“Oh.” Nicky managed, his hands clenching on the back of Mark's head for a second like a warning. Mark pulled back, feeling the twitch. A groan tore from Nicky's throat while Mark pulled back to just suck the head, stroking the shaft hard, the taste changing in his mouth. “Marky, oh, I'm...”

Mark let go, rubbing the head against his cheek while Nicky groaned out his orgasm, his thighs clamping for one painful moment while Mark stroked him, urging out Nicky's climax, feeling hot streaks of wetness paint his cheek and chin, trickle into his open mouth while Nicky clawed at his scalp, watching himself paint Mark's face in his own release.

“So fucking hot.” Mark murmured, licking up the shaft, feeling Nicky's body jerk as he teased over-sensitive skin. “Wanna fuck you.”

“God, yes.” Nicky whispered, his back arching. Mark grinned, running two fingers through the cum starting to drip down toward his chin, scooping it up. Nicky whimpered as they pushed into him, arse tilting forward to give Mark better access. And wasn't that just the best thing, watching this gorgeous man he loved pushing onto his fingers, eyes sleepy from orgasm, bright with excitement, his thighs flopping out to open himself up. Mark took his cock in again for a moment, feeling it soft against his tongue. Not wanting to tease, just wanting that wonderful content feeling of Nicky inside him. Nicky hissed, pushing down.

“A whole year.” Mark observed, adding an extra finger. Nicky whimpered, head tipping back against the cushions. “And you are still the sexiest thing I've ever seen.”

“Marky...” Nicky breathed, hands pushing his knees out while Mark mouthed his cock again, rubbing his cheek into Nicky's belly, surreptitiously wiping off some of the cum that was starting to dry on his face. “You... ah!” He bit his lip when Mark tickled at his prostate, eyes fluttering shut. “You too. So fucking sexy. Keep...”

So Mark did, pushing his fingers deeper, listening to the soft, breathless gasps. Nicky opened for him easily, spreading around him, and before long he was tugging Nicky forward, planting his knees on the floor, rolling on a condom and pushing in.

“Baby...” Nicky muttered. He was about bent in half, lower back flat to the seat, shoulders propped up on the cushions while Mark slid home. His hands fumbled at Mark's shoulders, clumsily tugging him deeper, feet digging into Mark's back. Mark felt something tickle his foot and glanced around, laughing when a pair of adoring black eyes stared at him, wrinkled face tilted to the side like a question.

“Hey Saffy.”

“Fuck off, Saffy.” Nicky grabbed a couch cushion, tossing it gently at the pug, who yelped and retreated to the kitchen. A minute later she was back, though, nosing at Mark's feet and then awkwardly jumping up onto the couch, sniffing at Nicky's face

“Saffy. No. Down.” Mark tried to sound commanding, but it was pretty useless when Nicky was starting to laugh, his body convulsing around Mark's cock. “Seriously, go away. Five minutes, just go away.”

“Five minutes? Oh, now I feel really special.” Nicky smirked, pushing away the inquiring face that was starting to sniff at his chest. She was trying to climb into his lap, which was pretty useless. Mark scooped her up with one hand and deposited her on the floor, nudging her gently away. He loved that dog, really he did, but now was not the time. She whined, curly tail wagging madly while she tried to rush back over.

“Just...” Mark sighed, pulling reluctantly out. Nicky moaned in disappointment, slumping back against the cushions. He was soft still, but that was quickly changing, and his skin was flushed with arousal. He looked completely gorgeous, his legs still spread in invitation. “Give me a second.

 

*

 

“Oh fuck...” Nicky kept saying it. It was one of his go-to phrases when he didn't know how to adequately express himself. This appeared to be one of those moments. His wrists were trapped under one strong hand, holding him down, his legs wrapped around Mark's waist while he was taken. Mark had made a quick job of tipping half a can of dog-food into the bowl on the kitchen floor, then had grabbed his wrist on the way back, dragging him off the couch and upstairs into the bedroom, the door slammed securely behind them a moment later.

“So tight.” Mark breathed, his hand tightening on Nicky's wrists, bracing himself on the bed, the other one working Nicky's shaft. Nicky had come already, but that didn't matter, not with Mark kissing him hard, fucking him slow and deep. Nicky cried out, feet digging into Mark's arse and trying to pull him deeper. “That's it. Take it. God...”

“Oh fuck.” Nicky groaned, arching into the warm body above his. The hand tightened on his cock in a backhanded stroke that had his toes curling. “Oh fuck, Mark...”

“Gonna come in you.” Mark growled. “You're so fucking good.”

“Yes...” Nicky gasped, his head going back when teeth scraped his throat, the pace speeding up. Mark was pushing into him faster now, going deeper than Nicky thought possible. “Come for me.”

“Wanna fill you up. All mine.” The bones in his wrists felt like they were grinding together. He didn't care. He hitched his legs up, wrapping them around Mark's waist, opening himself up, felt Mark slam in to the hilt, drag back out. Slam back in again. “Fuck, I'm coming...”

The grip on his wrists tightened, then loosened slightly when Mark cried out and slammed home for the last time. Nicky tugged a hand free, grabbing the back of Mark's head and yanking him into a crushing kiss, feeling teeth bruise his lower lip in between loud, desperate groans that vibrated against his mouth before he swallowed them. There was a hot, jerky feeling as Mark filled the condom. Mark's hand let go of his wrist, fingers entwining with his and squeezing while his husband rocked into him, gasping into his mouth.

Then collapsed, panting. Nicky let out a breath, feeling the crush of hairy, sweaty skin push him into the bed. Mark's hand was still moving between them, and it was only a moment before Nicky was coming too, his mouth open, trying to catch a breath that wouldn't come, Mark's teeth dragging deliriously over his collarbone.

Somewhere above the general post-orgasmic daze, Nicky heard a sound. He glanced over to the door, watching a shadow move in the gap beneath it. There was a soft whine, and the unmistakable scrabble of blunt claws on wood.

Mark snorted something that might have been a laugh, his breath puffing against Nicky's shoulder.

 

*

 

“Hey.”

Nicky had been quite happily making a cup of tea when he'd suddenly ended up spun around and hoisted onto the counter, his thighs spread apart so Mark could step between them. The whole thing had taken about three seconds.

“Hey.” Nicky replied, looping his arms around strong shoulders. “I was making tea.”

“I saw. I thought I'd distract you.”

“You always distract me.” He accepted the gentle kiss that was lifted to his mouth. “I was going to make you one.”

“That's alright, then.” Mark stepped back, leaving Nicky pouting and bereft. “Carry on.”

Nicky laughed, sliding back down from the counter, listening to Mark rummage through the fridge. He turned around to get the milk, smiling when Mark wordlessly handed it to him then went back to pushing aside half-empty bottles of soft drink.

“What are you looking for?”

“Dunno. Breakfast. Something. Could go an omelette.”

“We're out of eggs.” Nicky reminded him.

“Yeah, couldn't do it anyway. Back at work this afternoon.”

“You are.” Nicky handed the milk back, watched it disappear into the fridge. “Where's Saffy?”

“Asleep on the patio, last I saw her.” Mark closed the fridge, came back over. “Holidays are bad for me. I got too used to eating crap.” He patted his stomach. “You should have stopped bringing me ice-cream.”

“I like bringing you things. You didn't have to eat it.”

“It was a present. It would have been rude. Now I'm all fat.”

“You aren't, you're gorgeous.” Nicky reached around, grabbing Mark's bum. It was a little bit squishier than normal, but Nicky liked it. Mark was actually managing to get better looking as he got older. His shoulders were broader, and he'd filled out pretty spectacularly. Nicky sort of needed it to stop, because he was pretty sure if Mark got any hotter Nicky's head would melt from looking at him, like in Raiders of the Lost Ark. He shaved less now too, was all stubbly and masculine. He ran his other hand down over the one on Mark's stomach, feeling the soft, sexy curve of his husband under his palm.

And wasn't that something? Husband. A whole year, and Nicky couldn't get used to saying it, as though that one whirlwind day of suits and vows and too much champagne was a random punctuation mark in the middle of an amazing last few years. He'd like to say it was the happiest day of his life, but he'd be lying. The happiest day, if he had to pick, had probably been the day after. When they'd both woken up, still in their suits, a bit hungover, having fallen asleep not long after stumbling back into the hotel room. Looking over at Mark, his hair all sticking up from sleep, his breath bad enough to strip paint, and knowing that this was his for the rest of his life.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just...” He tilted his face up, capturing a kiss. “If you don't stop being gorgeous, I might explode.”

“Can't have that.” Mark murmured. “I could eat more ice-cream.”

“Don't think that'd help.” Nicky nuzzled his chin, feeling heat spill into his groin when gentle fingers stroked his sides. “But at least if you get really fat you won't be able to leave the house, and then we can stay here all day while I feed you ice-cream and suck you off.”

“If I get really fat, you won't be able to find it.” Mark teased. “Have I got much work today?”

“I don't know. You told me not to check in with work.” Nicky deadpanned. Mark rolled his eyes. Nicky had been sneaking looks at his phone for the last two weeks, and they both knew it. Nicky had stopped bothering to hide it after about day four when Mark had busted him sitting on the toilet, checking the rosters. “You've got a busy day. Work's sort of backed up while you were off. The public miss you.”

“Obviously.” Mark shrugged. He grabbed his mug and wandered away toward the living room. Nicky followed, feeling utter contentment wash over him.

 

*

 

“Oh god, it's you.” Kian rolled his eyes, stepping aside with a smirk. Mark hugged him, feeling Nicky brush past the two of them on the way into the house. A kiss landed on his cheek. “Welcome back, fuckhead.”

“Good to be back.” Mark pulled away, following Nicky into the house. “You recover alright after last night?”

“Yeah, not bad. Bailed out early.”

“You didn't get to bed at a sensible time, did you?”

“Might have.” Kian shrugged. “Morning shift.”

“You're not being an adult?”

“I don't care for your accusations.” Kian smirked, shoving Mark toward the living room. Mark accepted a hug from Annie on the way past, then wandered in to slouch down onto the couch next to Jeremy, who grinned at him and slapped him on the back. “Anyway, how are you feeling? Last I saw you were doing shots.”

“I'm good. Slowed down after that. Had a big glass of water before bed.”

“Adult.” Kian retorted.

“Grown up.” Mark shot back. A Red Bull flew through the air to land clumsily in his lap, and he looked over to wave gratefully at Blarney, who grinned and waved back. He should probably have been offended that it was already assumed that he was having one, but... shit, the can was already open and at his mouth so there wasn't much he could do about it now.

He could hear Nicky talking to Shane in the office. No specific words, he was too far away for that, just a general calming sense that Nicky was in the area in case Mark wanted him.

Jeremy went upstairs a few minutes later, following an elderly man with a cane slowly up the stairs. Mark was almost tempted to go and carry the guy up there himself, though the frustrated look on Jeremy's face while he was stuck behind the client was priceless. It took them about a minute just to make it to the landing. Mark wasn't sure what they were going to do up there, he was just hoping they wouldn't have to call an ambulance. Or a mortician.

He had his own session not long after. It was nice enough. Pretty standard. He was topping, but he threw in a couple of different positions for some variety. He came towards the end, not really on purpose, just because it felt pretty good and the guy wasn't unattractive. He didn't mind coming with other people – sometimes it just seemed like the right thing to do, or the client had paid for something that required it. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't much more than perfunctory, though, especially at this stage in the game. It felt good, it was a bit relaxing, whatever.

His mind tripped back to the night before, the feel of Nicky clenched around him, the smell of sex, the hoarse cries against his ear, the hands clawing his back, heels digging into his arse.

That was a whole other thing. It wasn't even coming, it was just... connection. Love. Want. Even when he was holding Nicky down and pounding him, it was never perfunctory. Even after five years. A whole year of legal domesticity that honestly amazed him to think about too closely. Nicky was...

He took the coffee Annie had made for Nicky, missing his husband already. Which was silly, because they'd basically been living inside each other – figuratively and literally – for the last two weeks. For the last five years. But it was Nicky and Mark just... needed him.

That was probably a bit sad.

“Hey babe.” Nicky looked up from his computer, smiling, accepting the kiss that was dropped on his mouth, his lips like heaven. “How you doing?”

“Good. Missed you.” There wasn't much point being coy about it. Nicky laughed, reaching out to put a hand on his thigh, pulling him close. A moment later Mark was sitting on the arm of Nicky's swivel chair, his feet braced on the floor so the whole thing didn't tip over. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Nicky grinned. “Saw you come.”

“Congratulations.” Mark smirked, messing up Nicky's hair. The blonde barked a protest, trying to tidy it back up. Mark helped him, twisting the quiff back into place. “Was it good for you?"

“You made a really cute face.” Nicky smirked. “Love watching you come.”

“You're so odd.” He looked up. Shane was just coming in, a clipboard in his arms. They were doing inventory this week, checking all the supplies and doing big bulk orders while a couple of the suppliers had a sale on.

“Working hard?”

“About to go be productive.” Nicky promised, pushing Mark away so he could stand up. “Sorry, still in holiday mode.”

Shane rolled his eyes and gave them one of those long-suffering sighs that said he didn't much mind at all. They were a good team, these two, bouncing off each other. To the outside it looked like Shane was the harder worker, but Mark knew it wasn't true. He was just the more organised one, the one that fiddled with all the numbers and the money and the legal stuff. Nicky was the soul, the passion, the one with the mad ideas and the big heart, that made sure everyone was happy and safe. Relationship aside, Nicky was the best boss Mark had ever had. He got stressed from time to time, sure, but he was a big sweetheart and always put everyone else before himself. That was one of the reasons Mark had fallen in love with him in the first place.

Nicky wandered off to do some work upstairs, helping Shane with the inventory. Mark went back out to sit with Cody, one of the newer guys who had just come in for the night shift. He was a sweet kid, sort of shy and nervous, a little bit too eager to please. He'd been hired when Evan had quit to go finish his studies and Connor had been fired for not handing in his health checks for about the fourth time in a row. He was very young, could only be barely legal, but experience hadn't been at all a problem. He was good, if a bit wide-eyed when it came to some of the weirder kinks. Mark couldn't imagine giving him some of his stranger customers, but that wasn't really an issue. Cody had his audience, mostly daddy types after a bit of legal jailbait, and it worked for him, especially with the short blonde hair and the waif-like physique.

It was odd, actually, not seeing Evan any more. Not that they'd been especially close, but when you saw someone almost every day, sitting around the living room waiting for a fuck, sharing stupid stories about clients, it was a bit sad to see them go. He'd felt the same when Anton had left as well, his girlfriend not that pleased with his profession. It had been his choice, Mark supposed, but he did wonder how that was going to turn out, whether the jealousy was too ingrained to be swept away that quickly. Apparently there'd been some pretty blazing rows, there at the end. They'd brought in Cormac to replace him, an older guy who was actually an ex-client. Which had been weird for a bit, but he liked doing it. Mark had actually been paid to fuck him once, about a year before he'd been hired, and he was good at what he did. He was maybe thirty-five, but a total gym junkie with muscles for ages and a gorgeous arse.

Mark had thought about being a bit jealous, but what was the point? If Cormac wanted to spend his whole life on a treadmill, that was his decision. It wasn't like Mark was having trouble bringing in the punters, even if he had gone a bit overboard on the ice-cream.

Nicky had let him lick it off his chest. That had to be some sort of crime. Coercion, or something.

He headed back upstairs not long after to get fucked by a guy in an expensive suit who kept slapping his arse. It was fine.

 

*

 

Shane went home around six, leaving Nicky upstairs counting bottles of massage oil and listening to Cody get slammed by a bloke in the next room. They were fine. He had Mark watching the monitors downstairs and if anything untoward happened, Nicky could hear it through the wall. He'd have to head downstairs soon anyway – Annie was knocking off at seven.

He felt good. He'd expected to feel more tired after the holiday, but he was slipping back into it easily. The lads were good when left to their own devices – they'd all been doing it long enough. Shane had kept things running smoothly, with a bit of help from Rowen to cover Nicky's absence. That kid had management written all over him.

And Mark was here. Everything was easy with Mark here.

“I'm off, love.” Nicky looked up. Annie was standing in the doorway, Sailor Moon backpack slung over her shoulder. It matched the new tattoo on the back of her thigh, the one squashed in beside Daphne from Scooby Doo.

“Coming.” Nicky smiled, getting up when his knees protested. He'd been a bit sore all day after last night's exertions. For the last two weeks, if he was honest. Not that he was complaining. How could you possibly complain about being woken up at three in the morning with the love of your life's arse sinking slowly down on your cock?

You couldn't. That would be bloody stupid.

Things were fairly steady for the rest of the night. Mark had another three, was breathless and sleepy by the time he let the last one out at eleven. Cody had one more and bogged off around ten. Rowen smacked a guy for half an hour and hung around to help them lock up. He was getting more interested in that side of it lately, and Nicky didn't mind. He hadn't wanted to get more help before, mostly out of selfishness, but he was getting older and if the last two weeks were anything to go by it would be nice to have the pressure off a bit, maybe have some more free time. It would be good for Shane, too. Give them both a bit of a break. Anyway, Rowen wasn't just some random, he was practically family

He gave Mark back his wedding ring when they slid into the car. Nicky would hang onto it during the day, looped on a chain around his neck. It was a bit of a mood breaker for the clients to leave it on, and you didn't want to accidentally lose it during a vigorous fingerfucking. It was just practical, and that was fine. It had been nice seeing it on Mark's finger though.

Mark drove them home. Nicky fed Saffy. They climbed into bed, Nicky spooned around Mark, listening to him fall asleep, one hand cradled against a strong chest.


	2. Monday

Mark was already up when the alarm went off. Nicky rolled out of bed and headed out to find him in the living room, struggling to pull his running shoes off while Saffy barked excitedly, her leash tangling in Mark's legs.

“Been out?”

“Didn't want to wake you.” Mark untangled himself long enough to unhook the leash from Saffy's collar. “You mind feeding her? She saw the yorkie down the road and she's gone mental.”

Nicky did so, and when he came back Mark had disappeared. He could hear the shower running.

Mark was slippery and warm when Nicky joined him, smiling welcomingly and pulling the stall door closed to keep the steam in. His sweaty t-shirt and shorts were in a pile on the floor.

“Good run?” Nicky leaned against the wall, the tiles slick and cold against his back. There wasn't much point starting anything. They had to be out the door within the next half hour, and Mark had a full day ahead. Still, it was nice to watch.

Yeah. Thought I better burn off some of this.” Mark patted his stomach, face turned up into the cascade of hot water.

“You're gorgeous. Don't worry.” Nicky replied, reaching around to grab a handful of bum. “Seriously fuckable arse.”

“Probably best if it stay that way, then.” Mark was lathering his chest with soap. It was distracting. “Keep my job.”

“Your boss'd be mad to let you go.” Nicky teased, pushing Mark out of the way to step into the flow of water. He shivered in the sudden rush of wet heat. A hand slid up his back, spreading soap.

Then he was being kissed gently, and time got a bit lost after that.

 

*

 

Mark skipped down the stars, heading for the front room. His first client had just left, a sweet guy with some sort of muscular disorder that made him kind of jittery. Mark had been seeing him semi-regularly for over a year now, and while it had unnerved him a bit at first – mainly for safety reasons – he was just a really sweet guy that just needed a bit of company without judgement.

Kian was sitting on the couch playing with his phone. Noah and Cormac were around here somewhere too, though judging from the sounds he'd heard from the room next to his at least one of them was on the job.

“Nicky's in his office.” Kian said, barely looking up from his phone.

“I didn't ask.” Mark was confused. Kian raised an eyebrow. “We're not joined at the hip.”

“Not at the hip, no.” Kian smirked.

“We're married. I'm not his pet.”

“I didn't mean it like that.” Kian glanced up from his phone, finally, giving him an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, I'm... I had a bit of a fight with Jake last night and I'm in a bit of a mood. Ignore me.”

“Everything okay?” Mark asked, sitting down beside him, the sting from Kian's comments disappearing fast. Anyway, Kian said unintentionally offensive shit all the time. He was sort of used to it by now. “You guys always fight.”

“Yeah. Dunno. Think...” Kian mumbled, turning back to his phone with the kind of focus that suggested he was trying to pretend Mark wasn't in the room. “Think we might be breaking up.” He said finally, his voice quiet. Mark slid a bit closer, putting a hand on Kian's knee. “Yeah, so...”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Kian was still looking at his phone, but his eyes weren't really focused. “He asked me to move in.”

“And?”

“And I said no.” Kian sighed, staring more at his knees now than anything. Mark shuffled in close enough to put an arm around his shoulders, felt Kian resist it for a moment and then give in, hair tickling his chin when Kian laid a head on his shoulder. “Shit. Sorry.” He was sniffling a little bit, trying to wipe away the evidence with the back of his hand. Mark stroked his hair gently, kissing his forehead. “I'm sorry, I'm not...”

“Wanna tell me about it?”

“No. Yes. No. I...” Kian gulped back tears, his phone dropping from his hand onto the couch next to him. “Shit. I was okay until you asked me.”

“Sorry.”

“No.” Kian wiped his face. “Sorry. I'm... I said no, and then he got upset, like we've been together five years now and was I really serious about it? Because, you know, he's not getting any younger, and I'm not...” He trailed off.

“Why'd you say no?”

“Because... I don't know. I honestly don't. I think I love him, but it's not...” Kian took a trembling swallow. “I don't know. I don't think we've been working for a bit. It was good and casual. I mean, we fought a lot but it was kind of hot because of all the make-up sex. And then we fought and there wasn't any make-up sex, and we started fighting about... you know, real things. And then it was just kind of casual, but not... good any more. I thought maybe he was cheating. I mean, we went like two months without any sex and then I thought 'who the hell am I to blame him for shagging other lads?' Which he wasn't, anyway, but it still fucking hurt and then I felt bad so we... you know... we fought. And then we made up. And he asked me to move in.”

“And you said no.”

“I... yeah.” Kian sighed, pulling away from Mark's embrace. “We move in together and... and what? Everything's okay again? He's not jealous and I'm not jealous and maybe I really love him, or maybe I'm not serious. Not in the way he wants, so what's the point if he's not happy? I want him to be happy. He's my best friend.”

“Are you happy?”

“No, not really.” Kian admitted, leaning into Mark again. Mark wrapped his arms around his friend, pulling him in tight, felt him shake. “Sorry. I didn't want to bring this to work.”

“It's okay.” Mark soothed, feeling his heart hurt when he felt the sleeve of his shirt dampen under regretful tears. He stroked Kian's hair, holding him close. Wishing he could help. He liked Jake, but admittedly... he hadn't seen him round much lately, not like before when he and Kian were glued to each other. “You want to take a break? I'm sure Nicky and Shane wouldn't mind.”

“I'm sure they wouldn't, but...” Kian shrugged within Mark's embrace. “No. If I start trying to fit my life around it I'll just think about it. I need to keep working. Distract myself.”

“Don't wreck yourself.”

“I won't. Just... what am I gonna do? Go back to my flat? Go to his? Shit, all I do is follow him around doing stupid fucking things like... like picking up my stuff off the floor and cleaning up after myself and making sure I give a shit about his friends and their fucking relationships and kids and jobs and...” Kian shook his head. “Like, I have to entertain his work friends, but I can't fucking say what I do, and you lot can't come over in case they find out he's been in a long-term... thing. With a whore. I...” He pulled away from Mark, his eyes more angry than sad. His fists were clenching on his thighs. Mark let go of his shoulders, put his hand on Kian's knee. “I'm a fucking whore. And he can go fuck himself.”

“That's the spirit.” Mark joked awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. If he thought about it, the last time he'd seen Jake properly had been at the wedding. He hadn't come to their anniversary party, or Mark's birthday. If he really thought about it, he sort of recollected seeing him at the grocers when he'd run into Kian there once, but that had been months ago. Kian let out a choked, tearful laugh. “Anything I can do?”

Kian shook his head. “No. It's just a thing. I'm not even really planning to break up with him, I'm just not sure I'll be that devastated when I do.” He rubbed his hands over red eyes. “Anyway, I've got a gig in a bit. Want to watch Jerry Springer yell at poor people 'til then?”

“Love to.” Mark agreed, putting his arm back around Kian and feeling him snuggle in.

 

*

 

Cormac came down from his first appointment in high spirits. He'd been really upbeat the last few weeks, according to Shane. Not for any particular reason, as far as any of them could tell. He was just a big, friendly guy who always seemed to have a smile for everyone. He popped his head into Nicky's office to let him know they were running low on condoms in Room 2, gave him an easygoing grin, and wandered off to sit with the boys in the front room.

Noah came down soon after, slumping cheerfully down the stairs. He was growing his hair long now, making him look even more like a surfer than ever. Kian headed up for a blowjob, giving Nicky a thin smile on the way past. Nicky wondered what was up with him, but then got distracted by a phonecall from Rowen to let him know he'd accidentally overslept and would be ten minutes late.

He was only five minutes late. Nicky didn't mind – he didn't have a session for another half hour. He almost didn't recognise Rowen for a moment – his face was jarringly clean of make-up, hair flat and sort of fluffy from an obviously rushed shower. Nicky had seen him once or twice without the dominatrix getup, but even at friendly barbecues and things he'd usually slap on a bit of eyeliner. He was a really cute guy, Nicky appreciated, in the momentary glimpse he got while Rowen dash through the main room and down the hall to the bathroom, bare face covered against the catcalls and whistles of the other boys.

Shane showed up. Nicky heard him greet Mark, Cormac and Rowen, and when he came into the office a few minutes later he was holding two cups of coffee. Nicky took one gratefully.

“Thanks, honey.”

“No worries, pumpkin.” Shane collapsed into his chair. “How's the morning?”

“Nothing to report.” Nicky shrugged, turning back to his ordering and taking a sip of the coffee. It was still too hot. He put it back down. “Some people had sex upstairs.”

“No fucking way.” Shane laughed, turning to his computer and switching on the monitor. “Kian upstairs?”

“Yeah, just a blowie. Liam and Blarney should be in any minute. Inventory's done. I'm just placing orders now if you want to do a double check when I'm done.”

“I trust ya.” Shane glanced at the monitor. Kian was just finishing up, on his hands and knees on the bed, nose buried in grey hair. The guy's pants were around his ankles and he was shuddering like he was about to come. “He's quite good at that.”

“I hope so, I did hire him.”

“Oh, they're all good at it, but that's quite impressive. Deepthroating like that without having to break for air. I always have to bob a bit to give meself a break.”

“It's definitely a talent.” Nicky agreed. “Probably helps that he's got such a big mouth.”

“He's been a bit quiet for the last week or so, actually. Barely complained or anything.”

Nicky was surprised. If there was one thing Kian was better at than giving head, it was throwing a strop.

“Think he's okay?”

“Hasn't said anything to me.” Shane glanced at the monitor. Kian was pulling off, spitting into a tissue. “Seems okay, just quieter than normal.”

“Hey guys?” They looked up. Annie smiled from the doorway, one hand over the receiver of the cordless phone she held. “Got a couple of lads wanting to come in an hour if we can squeeze em?”

Nicky opened the roster. He had five boys available: Noah, Cormac, Liam, Mark and Kian. Blarney and Ro were both booked up.

“What do they want?”

“Not sure. Bit of a line-up, I think. Two guys. They're not on the books.”

Shane nodded, glancing at Nicky, who nodded too. Whatever, it was just business as usual. She gave them a thumbs up and went back to her call.

They sat around for a bit, going through this and that, glancing in on Rowen's session for a minute. The health checks were due in and they were just about up to date. Mark had gotten his done on the last day of their holiday and the results should be in any time now. They were just waiting on the doctor's call. Not that Nicky was worried – they were both always fastidiously safe. The only time they'd even barebacked was two years ago on the night Mark had sort of proposed to himself, accepting before Nicky could even drum up the courage to ask the question, and while it had been truly amazing, it wasn't going to happen again. Not while Mark was in this business. They weren't that stupid.

Shane went out to let the boys know to get dressed up. Nicky went out a few minutes later to check. They all looked great, as usual. Liam and Noah were giving each other competitive nudges. Liam would be finishing up in a few weeks, moving over to France for a couple of months to finish studying. Mark already called him Moulin Rouge as it was, a jab at the whole struggling-artist-sells-his-arse cliché, so this definitely didn't help. Nicky was happy for him, though, especially because it meant he wouldn't have to pretend to eat all that vegan health food crap Liam always brought in.

Kian was sitting over on the couch, playing with his phone. It had been lodged in his hand all morning. Nicky wasn't sure if he was texting or what, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off it. He looked nice, in a tight t-shirt and leather jacket, but Nicky couldn't help but notice that he seemed to have lost a bit of weight. He was still hot, yeah, but he looked a bit strained and pale.

Mark looked adorable. Nicky had bought him a jacket, a red leather number covered in sew-on patches that Mark would never have bought for himself. It was a bit too flash, not something Mark would even try on. Nicky had seen it in the shops a week before Mark's birthday and all he could think of was how much he'd like to shag Mark in it. So he had, about five minutes after Mark had unwrapped it, turning it into a gift for both of them. Holding Mark's arse open with both hands and fucking him hard and fast, watching the pristine red leather get soaked in sweat and cum while Mark reached around and shoved a finger in Nicky's arse.

He was wearing actual clothes under it this time, a plain black t-shirt and black jeans. He must have caught Nicky looking, because he shot him a wink.

“Hey, sexy.”

“Hey, babe.” Noah interrupted, before Mark could reply, making Nicky laugh. Mark snorted, leaning back on the couch and blowing Nicky a kiss.

 

*

 

Mark had half-expected a couple of friends, one maybe a bit more experienced than the other, shouting his mate a turn on the hooker-go-round. Or maybe a couple of guys getting a big night started, having a bit of drunken fun, though it was a bit early in the afternoon for that.

What he hadn't expected was a married couple.

They both seemed nice. Annie was checking them in, and Mark couldn't hear what they were saying properly, but he could just see them, stood in the hall, arms around each other like they were going to the movies. Both older guys, maybe in their fifties, one balding and grey, with tattoos peeking out from his sleeves, the other taller, with a great head of salt-and-pepper hair, going a bit soft with age. Probably quite good-looking guys in their youth. They both had wedding rings on.

Shane went out to talk to them, then came back a moment later, glancing at them all in turn.

“They want to pick two together.” Shane said finally. “Couples situation. Thirty percent extra cut. If you don't want to do doubles, now's your chance to opt out.”

Mark looked at the others. Noah, Kian, Liam and Cormac. He didn't think he was that interested in any of them, particularly. Noah was cute, but he wasn't Mark's type. He'd shagged Cormac before, so he supposed he could do it again without any trouble. He was pretty fucking hot. Liam... they'd never been close, they just didn't gel, but he was cute enough and Mark could get it up for him if he had to. And Kian. Well, Kian was Kian. They were friends.

He'd not done doubles in years, anyway. The last one was probably Shane, that first week he'd started working for Nicky, and that had been a lot of fun, but it really wasn't something he made a habit of. It was always sort of awkward and clumsy, too many cooks sort of thing. And this was four instead of three, so it was bound to be even more confusing.

He glanced at Nicky, wanting to know what he thought. Yeah, he fucked people all the time, but this was a bit different. This was potentially going to include someone they saw almost every day.

“Okay with you?”

Nicky tilted his head to the side, giving him a studying look. He bit his lip for a moment, then let it go, his face considering.

“Up to you.” He said finally. “It's your arse.”

Mark shrugged, glancing back at Shane. “Yeah, okay, I'm in.” The others all agreed too. He thought Liam might bail out – he'd been not-so-secret fuckbuddies with Rowen for over a year now. They'd been dancing around each other for ages, and then Nicky had caught them in the coatroom at Shane's birthday do. They weren't exclusive or anything, but Mark had a feeling Rowen was a bit more invested in the arrangement than Liam was, had been getting mopier the closer it got to Liam leaving.

The couple came in. They seemed sweet. Comfortable with each other. Mark wondered if he and Nicky would be like that when they got older, just kind of settled into the relationship to the point where it was second nature. Except without hiring prostitutes. He wouldn't have been a fan of that.

The taller one – Tom – picked Kian right off the bat. Mark was surprised. He couldn't have looked more disinterested, was slouched on the couch barely looking at the clients. But then the shorter guy – Wesley – also had lighter hair and light blue eyes, so maybe it was just his type.

Nicky and Shane let them hang around in the room for five minutes, speak to all the boys. They were nice. Not the first time they'd shared a couple of guys, apparently, it was just a mutual kink they both had. It was sort of adorable, that they were secure and honest enough to indulge this thing together. Like a really cute hobby. Some couples gardened together, or went wine-tasting. Apparently these guys bought sex.

They picked Mark.

He stood up, accepting the arm that came around his waist when Wesley made his selection, giving him the patented flirty smile and pressing a kiss to his temple, trying to look excited. His heart was sort of fluttering, though. Kian was giving him concerned looks, like he was asking if it was okay. Mark shot him a reassuring smile.

Kian? Yeah, alright. This was going to be interesting.

 

*

 

Shane took the boys upstairs while Nicky went to sit in front of the monitors. Usually he liked watching Mark fuck, but now he wasn't so sure if he wanted to. It was a bit weird. Not that there was anything wrong with Kian, but there was a lot history there. There had always been this unrequited... thing between the two of them. Not that that was an issue now, but it was probably going to be a bit strange watching a friend have sex with the guy you'd passed him over for.

Not that he'd ever seriously considered dating Kian anyway, but it didn't mean Kian had taken it all that well when he'd found out. It was probably a blessing, that he'd just started dating Jake at the time. A bit of a distraction, but the tantrum had been pretty epic. They'd held off telling him until they knew it was something properly serious and not just a fling. Almost two months until Nicky could honestly say he didn't know how he'd lived the rest of his life with Mark in it.

They'd danced around the 'L' word for a while, neither of them all that comfortable admitting that they were both far more serious about it than they should be this early into the relationship, but when Mark finally had told Nicky he loved him... When they'd been snuggled up on a bench near the Liffey, the beats of the club they'd just left muted behind them, half-drunk at three in the morning, and Mark had turned to him and said “let's do this forever.” And Nicky had told him that sounded like a grand idea, and had snuggled into Mark's shoulder, his vision kind of blurry with alcohol and happy tears, and Mark had said, very quietly, “I'm falling in love with you.”

So they told Kian. He'd punched a wall, called Nicky a fucking hypocrite, and not shown up to work for two days. Things had blown over quickly. It had been awkward for a bit, and for a couple of weeks Nicky hadn't been entirely sure Kian wouldn't just quit. But then he'd calmed down, come in one morning with a thin smile on his face, hugged Nicky, shaken Mark's hand, and gotten back to work.

Nicky turned on the monitors, swivelling slightly in his chair. The other boys kept popping in to peer around the door, all obviously interested and wanting an excuse to peek at the screen.

Kian and Mark were kissing. It was nice, a comfortable sort of friendly kiss. Each of them had one of the clients pressed to their backs, hands reached around to undo their trousers. Kian's came down first, Tom rubbing against his arse a moment later, his taller frame blocking Kian slightly from the camera. Mark's were dropped a moment later, and the two boys pushed together, ground nakedly against each other by the guys sandwiching them.

Shane came in and pulled his chair over to sit next to Nicky.

Kian was half-hard. Mark was getting there too, his eyes closed in concentration. Then they opened, hands coming round to grab Tom's arse, pulling him forward and rubbing him harder into Kian. Kian did the same, pulling the shorter, tattooed frame against Mark's arse.

Shirts were coming off. There were clothes all over the floor. Nicky glanced at Shane. Shane looked back.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” And he was. Jealousy had never been an issue. Hell, he'd seen Shane fuck Mark, back at the beginning. It had been bloody great too. He'd sat behind this very desk, jerking himself off, watching Mark come in Shane's arse, the hottest look on his face. Then, less than twelve hours later, he'd been sat on Mark's cock for the first of many times, crying embarrassingly grateful tears.

The boys were climbing onto the bed. Kian lay down across it, his feet braced on the edge, his knees bent up. Mark climbed on top of him on all fours, facing the other direction. Then he was sucking, and Kian was arching up, reaching up to grasp Mark's shaft and running his tongue teasingly around the head.

“What'd they pay for?” Nicky asked.

“Basic suck and fuck.” Shane shrugged. “Noticed something, though. Might not mean anything.”

“Yeah?” Hands were running over Mark's arse, two fingers going in. Tom was doing the same to Kian, kneeling down to push a finger in, tongue moving over Kian's hole. Kian broke away for a second, his mouth opening in a silent cry, and then he was taking Mark back in again, letting him fuck his face in slow, careful thrusts.

“The shorter guy, Wes, looks a bit like Kian.”

Nicky looked. He hadn't really noticed, wouldn't have thought it unless it had been pointed out. He guessed Shane had a point. He was kind of short, with balding grey-blonde hair (he'd never mention to Kian that he was definitely thinning up top as he got older), sort of stocky. Quite a good body for his age.

“His type, maybe?”

“Maybe.” Shane leaned in closer, pointing at the guy knelt down with his face buried in Kian's arse. “But this guy? Tom?” Nicky nodded, trying to get a good look around Kian. Kian's thighs were over his shoulders, his cock pushing up into Mark's mouth. He looked to be quite enjoying himself. Kian had always liked being rimmed. It didn't happen very often – most clients were a bit hesitant about sticking their tongues into a prostitute's arsehole, so the boys usually ended up on the giving end. After a shower, of course, there was a limit.

“What about him?”

“Looks a bit like Mark.”

“He does not...” Nicky tilted his head to get a better look. Going a bit soft with age, greying dark-brown hair, tallish and with a big, dimply smile. Oh. “Fucking their younger selves, you think?”

“I'm thinking.” Shane nodded. “Quite sweet, if you think about it. True love. Don't want to fuck anyone but each other, even when they are outsourcing.”

Nicky laughed, leaning back in his chair. “That's adorable.” Wes was pushing into Mark now, his hands grasping his hips and pulling him back. Mark buried his face in Kian's groin, head moving slightly from side-to-side while he forced him into the back of his throat. Kian threw his head back, allowing his arse to be lifted and then penetrated, his hand working Mark's shaft. The couple were stood either side of the bed, holding hands over Mark's back, looked like they wanted to lean over and kiss each other but there was too much distance between them, too much writhing, sweaty boy.

“Who do you think'll come first?”

Nicky shrugged. “Out of the four of them?”

“If you like. I was just thinking the clients.” He knew Shane was probably trying to distract him with banter, stop him from thinking too deeply about his husband fucking one of their best friends, but Nicky was honestly okay with it, more than he though he would be. This was what Mark did. What he was good at. What Kian was good at. If anything he was proud – he'd hired these guys to do this, and they were constantly hitting it out of the park.

“Mmm...” Nicky watched them, studying their faces while Tom spread Kian's cheeks wider, fucking him with short, sharp thrusts that looked like they were barely touching the sides. Hammering in and out, fast and shallow. Wesley, on the other hand, was fucking Mark with slow, deliberate thrusts that were making Mark's eyelids flutter closed in soft, gorgeous pleasure. Nicky bit his lip, feeling himself harden slightly in his jeans. He did love watching Mark's sex faces. They were stunning. “I'm gonna say the one fucking Mark.”

“Biased?”

“I'm always biased.” Nicky admitted. “He's a great fuck, though. You know, yourself.”

“Yeah, but Kian's pretty good too.” Shane said. Nicky looked at him in surprise. Shane went a little pink, as though he realised what he'd just said.

“What?”

“No, nothing. Just... professionally noticing. He's good with the clients...” He trailed off, his eyes suddenly immovably fixed to the screen in front of him.

“You and Kian? When?” Nicky demanded, momentarily distracted from the screen.

Shane sighed, glancing at the door. Making sure no-one was within earshot, Nicky supposed. He got up and closed it, sinking back into his chair beside Nicky. Mark was pushing back now, sucking Kian slow and deep to the rhythm of the thrusts rocking him. Kian was writhing on the bed, clenching around the cock in his arse.

“Last week.”

Nicky choked. He didn't have anything to choke on, though he supposed if he'd had a cup of tea he could have done one of those wonderful cinematic spit-takes. He'd never understood those, it always seemed like you'd have to spend time wiping up. As it was he just choked awkwardly on his own spit, coughing a couple of times to clear his throat.

“What?”

Shane sighed, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back.

“It was just... I dunno. We went out. We hadn't done it in a while, I was busy with work, especially with you guys being on holiday. But he'd had a fight with Jake and wanted to let off steam so we went clubbing. Had a few drinks. Probably too many. We were just mucking around, you know, doing a bit of a cheeky grind on the dance floor. He kept slut-dropping me, I was slapping his arse. It was just... it wasn't anything, we were just having a laugh.” He trailed off, looking at the screen. “I don't know. We always do that shit. He's my best friend. It wasn't...” He shook his head. “And then he was fucking me in the toilets and I didn't... I didn't say no. I should have said no. I didn't want to.”

“Shit.” Nicky whistled out a breath through his teeth. Shane was bright red, his hands coming up to cover his cheeks. “Everything okay between you two?”

“I don't know. We didn't talk about it. He came in the next day and got back to work, I didn't say anything. Part of me hopes I was so drunk I was hallucinating, or that he was so drunk he forgot. I just... he's been with Jake five years, and I know they fight, but they're exclusive. I just feel really fucking guilty about it.”

“But it was good?” Nicky asked.

“It was amazing.” Shane said quietly. “But he's a whore, and I'm... I mean, I've got the skills as well, don't I? So we're both good at sex, we knew that, but it wasn't just about the sex. It was just really good.” He sighed, glancing back at the screen. “I don't know what to do. He's been dead quiet all week, will hardly talk to me except for the obvious professional stuff. I don't want to push it though. If he doesn't want to talk about it...”

“Do you want to? Talk about it, I mean?”

“No. Yes. We've been friends for fucking ever. I don't want this to come between us. But I'm his boss, aren't I? I don't want to be that guy who...” He glanced at Nicky. Nicky looked back, knowing exactly what he'd been about to say. “Shit, sorry. I didn't mean it like that.”

“I know. It's fine.” Nicky thought about being offended, then couldn't be bothered. Shane hadn't meant anything by it. 'That guy who sleeps with his staff.' Well, Nicky wasn't that. He was just in love with Mark. Mark worked for him. They didn't go hand in hand.

“I've knobbed up quite badly, haven't I?”

“No.” Nicky shook his head. It wasn't entirely the truth, but Shane didn't need to hear that. “You should probably talk to Kian, though.”

“I know. I will. Eventually.” He reached out to adjust the monitor, silently returning his attention to the screen.

 

*

 

Mark wanted to moan when Kian's mouth pulsed around his cock, but his own mouth was a bit busy. As odd as this had been at the beginning, kissing Kian, feeling a soft, talented tongue slide into his mouth, he had to admit that Kian was good at what he did. Really good. He'd known that, in an abstract kind of way, but he and Kian were quite different in bed and he'd never had a reason to consider whether they were compatible or not.

It didn't appear to be a problem.

He felt the guy behind him start to come, felt the thrusts get suddenly deeper and harder. Made a show of pulling off Kian's cock and backing up hard, making eye-contact with the guy fucking Kian, dropping a wink. They were too lost in each other to really notice, though, were holding hands across his back, watching each other fuck a boy almost thirty years younger than them. He sank back down, running his tongue around Kian's cock, felt him shudder, watched Tom's cock hammer in and out of Kian a few inches from his face. Then felt Wesley shudder behind him, felt Kian pulse in the back of his throat, starting to get close. Heard Kian groan, felt it in the tongue wrapped around him, the lips still sliding up and down his shaft. Felt fingers wrap in his hair while Tom drove into Kian one last time and came into the condom, letting out a hoarse cry, his other hand still grasping his husband's in the small of Mark's back.

He winced at the pull-out, glancing under himself to catch Kian's eye, make sure he was okay. His eyes were dazed and tinged with laughter, his cock hard in Mark's hand. Mark kissed the head, just friendly, then was rolled over onto his back. Wesley rolled a condom onto him while his partner helped Kian up and pushed him down, Mark watching the muscles in a strong back back shift to accept the intrusion.

Kian felt good. Better than good. Loosened, obviously, from being fucked, but still warm and tight and easy. Mark bit his lip, knowing he wasn't too far off, and smiled when he was kissed hard, looked up to see Tom doing the same to Kian, his hands grabbing Kian's hips to lift him, fucking him on Mark's cock.

“You like that?” Wesley said. He hadn't said much through the whole thing, none of them had, except for some quick instructions. 'On your back, on your knees' sort of thing. Mark nodded, knowing it was reasonably true. It was still a job, but it wasn't exactly a hardship, not when Kian was squeezing, looking over his shoulder and dropping Mark a wink. “Want to come in him?”

Mark nodded again, knowing anything he could say at this point would sound over-the-top and scripted. He did, though. Fuck, he did. It was right there, on the edge. Kian was grinding, setting a circular rhythm that rocked him back, then forward, against tight, hot walls that rippled around him.

“Come in me...” Kian murmured, before grabbing his client's hair and kissing him hard. He broke for air a second later. “Fill me up. Make me feel it.” He groaned.

“Jesus.” Mark managed. He knew it was probably just stock stuff Kian always said, but it definitely worked. He had his own variations on the theme of course, everyone did. Something generally complimentary and encouraging. “God, you're so fucking tight. Make me come.”

“So deep.” Kian groaned, rocking back hard. “So fucking deep. Shit, I...” He was stroking himself hard. “I'm gonna come. Make me come, baby. Fuck me. Wanna feel it.”

“That's it.” Mark mumbled, feeling his toes start to curl. There was a mouth back on his, kissing him through it. He moaned into it, tangling his hands in grey hair to ground himself while he let go, pushing as deep as he could and listening to Kian whimper against his own kiss. His back was shaking, his hands braced on Mark's knees while he dropped down over and over, riding hard. Felt him squeeze tight one last time, and then Kian was over the edge too, spurting over his own hand and crying out into the mouth sealed to his own.

When Mark managed to shake off the haze of his orgasm, he realised the two clients were making out on the bed next to him, totally lost in each other. He shrugged, glancing up at Kian, who pulled off and turned around, his eyes laughing.

'Alright?' He mouthed silently. His lips were swollen, blonde hair plastered to his forehead. Mark nodded back, darting his eyes meaningfully at the two next to him. They still had five minutes left. Kian shrugged, sitting down on the bed and letting Mark pull him into a comfortable hug.

He glanced up at the mirror in the corner, the camera hidden behind it. Gave it a cheeky wave, knowing Nicky was probably downstairs watching. Probably Shane as well. Kian snorted, waved as well, then gave it a two-fingered salute. Mark reached down to remove the condom that was starting to slide off as he softened.

“Wanna make encouraging noises until they're done?” Kian whispered. Mark shrugged, turning to look at the couple on the bed.

“Yeah, alright.”

 

*

 

They took a break when Mark came back down. Nicky took him out the back for a cigarette. They'd done away with the fold-out chairs last year, after one had finally collapsed, and there was a wooden bench in it's place now, with a couple of plastic chairs around it. They sank onto the bench, Nicky pressing so close to Mark he was just about melting into his side.

Mark kissed his temple, sending a shiver up Nicky's spine.

“Love you.”

Nicky nodded, leaning up to kiss him. His partner had taken a quick shower, and he felt clean and fresh, his lips still a little swollen. “Love you too.”

“You watch?”

“Obviously.” Nicky smirked, kissing him again. “Cheeky shit gave us the finger.”

“Can't take him anywhere.” Mark agreed. “Was it okay?”

“It was fine. You two did well.” Nicky stood up, sinking back down into Mark's lap, arms around his shoulders. He was practically trying to absorb Mark as it was, he might as well go all the way with it. “Was it okay for you?”

“Yeah, fine. He's good at what he does. Gives good head, I'll say that for him.” Mark shrugged. “I dunno. It was a job. It was nice. I came pretty hard, so we'll call it a success. It was kind of weird being Kian, but then I sort of forgot. Just went with it. Did you jerk off?”

Nicky snorted, surprised by the abrupt question. “I didn't, no. Shane was watching too. Would have been weird.”

“Did you want to?”

Nicky shrugged, thinking back. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't gotten hard. He generally did when he was watching Mark. Maybe he'd gotten desensitised, though, compared to back in the day when he'd fucked his own hand almost every time Mark had been in a session. He'd seen Mark shag a lot, over the years, but it was all a bit meaningless when he wasn't personally involved. Now it was more of a general appreciation for his talents.

“No. Not really. It's Kian, you know? He used to fancy me and all. Would have been weird. Like, I check in on him, but I don't watch him, not like I watch you. You're...”

“Bloody amazing?”

“That too.” Nicky laughed, smiling when he felt Mark wriggle under him. “Anyway, back to work. We've been mucking around out here too long.” He glanced at his watch. “You've got another two before knock off. What do you want to do tonight?”

Mark shrugged, shifting under Nicky's lap. Nicky kissed him. Just because he could. It was soft, and tender, and full of affection. Strong hands circled his waist, holding him tight

“Order food, watch some TV. Bit of a snuggle on the couch?”

Nicky nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”


	3. Tuesday

Waking up with Mark was always a joy. He was warm, and soft, and always twisted around Nicky in his sleep, holding him tight and snuffling into the back of his head, or snuggling into his chest. Nicky wasn't the same, he always ended up spread-eagled with the sheets tangled in his legs, one arm hanging off the bed, face in the pillow and neck twisted the wrong way. Mark always seemed to find him, though, guiding him sleepily back into some sort of embrace.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Mark's eyes were closed, but he was awake. Nicky knew. He pushed their foreheads together, feeling arms tighten on his waist. A nose rubbed against his, and a smile quirked Mark's lips. “I had a dream about you.”

“Did you?” Nicky kissed him gently, stroking the back of his hand up one arm, feeling the tickle of hair on his knuckles. “Sex dream?”

“No, just...” Mark yawned. Nicky sucked on his top lip, distracting him. He got a kiss back, a throaty chuckle. “Just a dream. Don't remember the rest, but you were in it. You're like glitter, you get bloody everywhere.”

“I'm glitter?”

“Yeah.” Mark opened one eye. “Get it once, and you find it in everything for the rest of your bloody life. Like, I'm sure I find bits of you in my clothes. You're in my bed. Spot you in the clouds occasionally. And now you're showing up in my dreams.”

“That is the most bizarrely romantic thing anyone's ever said to me.” Nicky stated. Mark laughed, opening the other eye. He grabbed the blanket and dragged it up over both their heads, shadows draping over his face in the sudden half-darkness, making him look older and more secretive. Nicky kissed his nose, meeting dark blue eyes laden with promise. “You buttering me up?”

“For what?”

“For the sex.”

“The sex?” Mark's eyebrows knitted theatrically, his mouth twisted into a considering grimace. “What sex?”

“The sex we're about to have.”

“Oh, _that_ sex.” Mark snorted, hands sliding down Nicky's back. He could feel Mark's morning erection against his groin, heavy and hard. “Sorry, I got a bit confused. There's been a lot of sex going around lately.”

“Let me narrow it down.” Nicky murmured, his hand sliding down between them.

 

*

 

Mark was watching morning TV when Shane called, chilling out in a general sated haze, Nicky's head in his lap, their fingers all twisted together while he stroked blonde hair. Saffy was stretched out on the floor in front of them, and Mark kept idly stroking her with one of his feet while she let out tiny little doggy snores. Nicky reached out, hooking the phone closer with his toes until Mark could reach out and grab it off the couch, handing it to Nicky. One of them probably could have gotten up, but why ruin a good thing?

“Hey, Shay, what's up? Oh, shit, you okay?”

Mark looked down, concerned, but Nicky gave him a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, well, that'll teach you to eat kebabs from a van. You gonna be in today?”

He wasn't. He was glued to the toilet, was going to be there for quite a while. Nicky got up and went to find clothes, telling Mark he could stay here and come in later if he wanted. Mark sort of couldn't be bothered. If Nicky was heading in, he could always go in too, maybe do some work, maybe help out. If he was really bored, he supposed he could drop Nicky off, go down the shops and get some morning tea or something, maybe check out that new record store that had just opened up in the shopping centre.

It was while they were on the way there that Mark's phone rang.

 

*

 

The sudden blare of a Mariah Carey song cut through the sound of the radio, and Nicky took his hand off the steering wheel to press the mute button, silencing a jingle for budget car servicing.

“Hello. Yeah, that's me.” Mark paused, glancing at his watch.. “Um... yeah, I guess I can come in this morning. I can be there around ten thirty if I rush. Is there a problem?” He was silent for a moment. Nicky tried to listen in without taking his eyes off the road. It was bloody packed this morning, bumper to bumper. He wondered if there'd been an accident somewhere, and then dismissed the idea, not wanting to tempt fate. “Okay. Yeah. I'll see you then. Do you know...? Okay.” He nodded, biting his lip. He was looking at Nicky now, his eyes laden with concern. Nicky knew that look well, had only seen it on occasion. He didn't like it. “Yeah, see you soon. Bye.”

“Everything all right?” Nicky asked. Mark was still biting his lip when he disconnected the phone and rested it carefully in the compartment between their seats.

“Yeah. Ehm. I don't know. That was the doctor.”

Nicky felt his heart drop.

“My test... it came back inconclusive. I have to go... um... gotta go in and get it redone. So they can check. You know.”

“Which test?” He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. Fucking... herpes. Let it be fucking herpes. The Clap, maybe, he could deal with that.

“Um.” Mark let out a shaky breath. “The HIV one.”

 

*

 

Nicky slammed on the brakes. Mark felt the seatbelt yank against his stomach, forcing his breath out. When he looked over, Nicky was staring straight ahead at the road, his hands clenched too tight on the steering wheel.

“Nix.” Mark reached out for his hand, closing it around fingers that didn't move except to shake. “Nico, pull over, yeah? Come on.” There were cars honking behind them. The road was already gridlocked, and this wasn't helping. He brushed hair out of Nicky's eyes, nudging him slightly. “There's a spot there. Let's just...”

Nicky nodded, shaking himself slightly. He jolted forward, swinging slowly into an empty spot. It was blocking someone's driveway, but there was no-one coming immediately down it, so Mark didn't bother saying anything. Nicky took his hands off the wheel, turning to Mark with tears in his eyes.

“No.” He said. Mark didn't know what to say.

“No, what?” He replied finally.

“No. You're fine.”

“I am.” Mark agreed, ignoring the uncertainty twisting in his stomach. “It's probably nothing, yeah? Inconclusive. Not even a false positive. It's probably nothing.”

“You're fine.”

“I'm fine.” Mark agreed, reaching across to pull Nicky into a hug. The gearstick jabbed into his ribs, but he ignored it, feeling hands tremble on the back of his neck. “Hey, don't panic. If you panic, I'll panic, and then we'll both be bloody useless.” He kissed Nicky's cheek, tasted tears. “I'll just go in, get tested again, and everything will be fine. Nothing could have happened, right? We always use condoms, and I can't say I remember a client ever bleeding on me. I think I'd remember that.”

“Yeah, but...” Mark kissed him quickly, cutting off his words. He attempted a reassuring smile. It didn't really work.

“Look, business as usual. Let's take a detour, you can drop me off at the medical centre and then go to work. Nothing's changed. Some lab tech probably got peanut butter on the slide.” God, he hoped that was true. “It's just routine. Shane's off sick, so you need to go in. I'll get this done, and I'll come meet you at work.”

“Yeah.” Nicky bit his lip. “Yeah.” He shook himself, leaning back in his seat. Mark watched, reaching over to touch his hand.

“Do you want me to drive?”

Nicky sucked in a breath. Held it. Looked at Mark. Looked at the road. Breathed out.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Mark climbed out and headed round the driver's side to open Nicky's door. Nicky stared at him for a moment, then climbed out and yanked him into a crushing hug. Mark went willingly, stroking his hair.

“Don't you dare be sick.” Nicky whispered, rubbing his face into his chest. It was a bit damp and snotty, but Mark didn't mind. He just hoped Nicky couldn't feel how fast his heart was beating – he didn't need more panic. “If you're sick, I'll fucking kill you.”

“Understood.” Mark agreed. “But I won't be.”

 

*

 

Nicky didn't want to let Mark go at the medical centre, but Mark insisted, shoving him back into the car and giving him a smile that probably was meant to be reassuring, but looked almost as terrified as Nicky felt. They'd been here every two months for the last five years, but for the first time Nicky felt lost. He half expected Mark not to come back out, which was bloody stupid.

Inconclusive. It probably didn't mean anything, right?

He drove as slowly as possible, not able to focus enough to go the full speed limit, taking back streets so he didn't have to block traffic. It wasn't so bad going away from the city. He was only ten minutes late, and by the time he got there Blarney and Jeremy were stood out the front waiting for him.

“Sorry, lads.” He tried to sound as upbeat as possible. Mark had said he didn't want to worry anyone, and Nicky understood. Still, it was going to be a very long day, keeping this under his hat. “Shane ate a dodgy kebab. Won't be in.”

“Bad mistake.” Blarney commented. “Where's Mark?”

“He should be in later.” Nicky shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. A car was pulling up outside, probably one of the clients. He didn't recognise it. “Annie's day off today as well, so I might need you lads to help me out a bit if that's okay?”

They both agreed, ducking inside to get ready for the day. An guy was already coming up the front path, looking purposeful. Nicky shook his hand and ushered him in, heading to the reception desk to sort out the booking.

Blarney went upstairs. Jeremy went to chill out in the main room. Nicky sat at reception, resting his forehead on the desk.

Shit.

 

*

 

The waiting room was boring. Mark opened a magazine, but a few pages in he realised he was more focused on the flat pastel green of the wall across from him. There was a little girl on the floor with a bandaged arm, playing with a toy truck. She kept smashing it into a chair, making grand explosion sounds, and where once Mark might have thought it was cute, it was grating badly on his nerves. He felt on edge, like there was too much of him for his skin. He put down the magazine and picked up another. There was a celebrity wedding on the cover. There was a celebrity wedding on most of the covers. He put that one down too, and went back to staring at the wall.

He was called into the office after what felt like hours. It had been eight minutes.

The doctor was his usual. He liked having a usual doctor. She was nice, she knew his situation, and she really didn't judge him for it. It had taken a few attempts to find one he liked, after a few surly elderly types that had immediately baulked at the whole 'prostitute' thing, right after they baulked at the whole 'gay' thing, assuming that he was obviously a big cockslut riddled with disease. She had his history, and she was really professional about it.

“Don't panic, you're probably fine.” She said it before he even sat down. He appreciated it. “Where's Nicky?”

“Work.” Mark shrugged. God, even his doctor assumed they were attached at the hip. That was sad. “Probably best if he's not here, anyway. He tends to freak out.”  
  
“It's routine.” She assured him. She was probably thirty-five, sort of pretty if you liked women. A bit severe, but in a no-nonsense way that Mark liked. She didn't bullshit, but she didn't assume the worst either. She made him call her Millie, instead of Dr. Somers. He had a feeling she was a lesbian, but hadn't confirmed it, and didn't much care either. It wasn't like they were friends. She was his doctor. She was a good doctor.

She was smiling comfortingly at him and opening files. His name was on them.

She took blood again. He didn't hate needles, but he wouldn't say they were his favourite thing in the world. A cheek swab as well, just to cover their bases.

It would be three to five days. Mark didn't know that he could wait that long. But she assured him that it was just routine, that she honestly didn't think he'd contracted anything. It was more likely to be an anomaly caused by another virus, a flu or something, messing with his antibodies. He said he didn't feel sick. Except for the twisting in his stomach and the rising acid feeling in the back of his throat.

“Should I...” He said finally. “Should I tell people? I mean... like, clients and that? Like, what if...”

“It's unlikely.” She said. “Until we know something I wouldn't go to work. You've always practiced safe sex. If anything, you're less likely to be positive because you're so careful. People always think they're safe, and then end up with herpes from a one-night stand, but you're in a long term relationship, you always use protection...” She shrugged. “Three to five days, and we'll know either way. But honestly... we didn't see anything specific. Nothing that would suggest you're positive. You could be in the infection window, and results are never perfect then, I don't want you to take this as me saying you're definitely fine. Don't go throwing the condoms away, but...”

“But I'm probably fine.”

“You're probably fine.” She echoed. “Just be careful until we know for sure.”

“What about...” He winced, not really wanting to talk about this. “Um. Nicky kind of... performed oral sex on me this morning? Before you called me?” He could feel his cheeks going hot. Shoot a load on some guy's face, and he could talk about it no problem. But this was talking about Nicky. To a serious-looking woman in a white coat. “He couldn't have...”

“Extremely low risk.” She replied. “Unless he had any cuts in his mouth, I wouldn't be concerned yet, but I would get him to come in and get tested, just in case. He gets tested regularly, anyway, so it's unlikely.” That was true, Nicky got tested every six months. He didn't sleep with anyone but Mark, anyway, and they were always really careful. Maybe it was naïve, but Mark was sure Nicky hadn't slept with anyone else. The worship was a bit much at times, but it was definitely reassuring.

He thanked her. Left. Sat at the taxi rank for ten minutes or so, staring into space.

He was probably fine.

 

*

 

He was sorting out the rosters, just for something to do. It was past lunch, and Blarney, Jeremy and Noah were all busy upstairs with clients. Liam and Rowen were in the other room, watching TV. Sitting way too close to each other, if Nicky was any judge, but that was none of his business. He couldn't be bothered to care, anyway. His heart felt like it was in a vice.

“Slacking off?”

Nicky looked up. Mark was leaning in the doorway like the best thing ever, a brown paper bag in his hand.

“Hey.” It was all he could manage. He thought about saying something smart-alecky, but couldn't think what it might be. His husband smiled at him. Nicky found it in himself to stand, accepting the hug Mark pulled him into.

“Hey. I brought sandwiches.” Mark put the bag down on the desk, kissing him gently. Nicky returned it, wrapping his arms around his partner, making sure it was really real, that Mark was warm and alive and true against him. “Three to five days. Then we'll know for sure.”

Nicky nodded, leaning into Mark's chest.

“She doesn't think I am anyway. You should get tested, though. Just in case.”

“I will.” Nicky squeezed him tight. “But I don't want to think about that just yet. You okay?”

“I feel fine. Honestly. I just feel normal. Bit freaked out, but normal. Better now, though.” Soft lips dropped to Nicky's forehead. “Let's just get on with it. I can't work until we know, but I'm sure there's something I can do. Especially with Shane and Annie off. I can do reception or something.”

“You should go home and rest.” It hurt to say it. He didn't want Mark out of his sight.

“I want to stay. I feel fine.” Mark pulled back, and their eyes met for a moment. Familiar blue eyes that dragged Nicky in every time. “But, you know, I've got a bit of bad back, so I can't shag. Put it out helping you move the TV cabinet. Silly me, right?”

“Silly you.” Nicky agreed. “I already rearranged your appointments. I'll sort out the ones for the rest of the week.”

“Much appreciated. Might need to see a chiropractor. Idiot I am.”

“You were just doing it to help me.” Nicky shrugged. “So we're both in this together.”

“I know.” Mark smiled, leaning down to kiss him again. “Thank you.”

 

*

 

The day crawled. Mark tried to keep a cheerful face on, limping a bit every now and then to hold up the story of his bad back. Nicky kept going into the office and staying there for ages, then coming back out with red eyes and not leaving him alone. Mark didn't know how to feel. He was mostly just tired.

They had a day off tomorrow, though. They could deal with it then. Nicky could get his blood test and they could sit at home and watch a movie or something on the couch. Talk about it, maybe. Mark wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. It felt silly trying to plan for something that wouldn't happen. Probably wouldn't happen.

Might not happen.

Could happen.

Incon-fucking-clusive.

What the fuck was he supposed to do with that?

Inconclusive.

Jesus.

 

*

 

Nicky sat in his office, staring blankly at the monitor. Rowen had a guy tied up and gagged, face-down on the bed. He was wearing stiletto heels, was surprisingly good at balancing on them. He kept standing on the guy's back, shouting at him. Nicky could even hear his voice wafting down the stairs, just faintly. Not actual words, but if he had to guess it was probably something to do with the guy's wife or mother. It usually bloody was.

The day had slowed to the point where Nicky was fairly certain that time had started to flow backwards. There was plenty of business, that wasn't a problem. There probably would have been more if Mark was properly on the job, but it felt like everything was going at a snail's pace. A crippled snail. A dead fucking snail with inconclusive fucking tests that they'd have to wait three to five days for.

Jesus.

But Mark would be fine. How could he not be fine? Fine was what Mark was. Even a few years ago, when shit had hit the fan and they'd been in trouble, when Mark had been stalked and threatened and Nicky's old car had been set on fire, and they'd gotten those horrible fucking photos and the graffiti and the vandalism...

Mark had been fine. He'd been upset, and scared, and had spent more time looking out for Nicky than for himself. Because he was a big sweetheart who always put everyone else first. Who put Nicky first. Always. Because Mark was the love of his goddamn life. Nicky couldn't do it without him. He didn't know how to think about Mark not being there. About waking up in the morning without Mark wrapped around him, holding him in his sleep like it was the most automatic thing in the world.

Getting up without Mark. Brushing his teeth without Mark. Doing his laundry without Mark. Feeding the dog without Mark. Reading the newspaper at the breakfast table, watching terrible talk shows that for some reason Mark and Kian both loved. Making dinner. Going to sleep. Dancing. Singing. Fucking. Making slow, ridiculous love that made him feel like he was on fire. That he was loved. That he had everything that he could possibly need. Living without Mark.

Mark was fine.

Mark had to be fine.

Nicky couldn't do it without him.

 

*

 

The day ended. It was late. Mark was exhausted. All he'd done was sit down all day, and he was totally wrecked, with a deep fatigue he could feel in his bones. Nicky made him a cup of tea with a bit of honey in it, then stood behind him while he sat on the couch, kneading his stiff shoulders. He couldn't relax. Nicky kept kissing his hair. Had been staring at him almost all day. Kisses trailed up the back of his neck, and Nicky sank down to his knees behind the couch, arms wrapping around him from behind.

It took him a long moment to realise Nicky was crying.

He didn't say anything. Didn't know how to. He just held Nicky's hands against his chest and waited for it to stop. Then, after a while, it did. Nicky kissed the back of his neck again, lips trembling.

“Bed?” Mark said finally. Nicky nodded.

They went to bed. Stared at the ceiling.

He didn't know what time he fell asleep.

But eventually he did, Nicky's head on his shoulder.


	4. Wednesday

Breakfast tasted like cardboard. Nicky was pretty sure he wouldn't have noticed if he was eating the box instead of the cereal. The milk, at least, helped it go down. Nicky had poured on a lot of milk. Or rather, he'd started pouring and then gotten lost staring into space and not realised he was still pouring when the milk splashed out of the bowl and onto his shoes.

Mark was in the shower. Singing. As bloody usual. Something low and melancholy that made Nicky want to cry.

He didn't realise he was still standing in the kitchen, a soggy spoonful of unchewed cornflakes in his mouth, until warm hands pressed to his back.

“Alright?”

Nicky turned around, swallowing around cereal that caught in his throat. Mark still had a towel around his waist, but he'd pulled on a t-shirt. It was an old black South Park tee, going a bit threadbare with age. Mark had had it as long as Nicky had known him, probably longer. Mark didn't even really watch South Park any more, but the t-shirt was well worn in.

“Breakfast?” Nicky asked, lamely pushing the bowl at Mark. He didn't think he could eat it himself, and Mark needed to eat, anyway. Keep his strength up. In case.

In case.

No, he wasn't going to think about it. It wouldn't happen.

“Yeah, okay.” Mark took the bowl, stirring the cereal but making no attempt to eat any. “You put a lot of milk in.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Accident.” Nicky scratched his hair, not knowing what to say. “Um.”

“Um.” Mark repeated, putting the untouched bowl down on the dining room table. “I need to take Saffy out for her walk. Do you want to come?”

“I can do it.” Nicky volunteered. He didn't want Mark overexerting himself. In case.

Fuck.

“It's cool. I could use some exercise.” Mark smiled, pulling Nicky in. “Come on, you don't want to be the adorable gay couple walking their tiny dog? We can be all smug at that miserable cow up the road with the terrible dachshunds. You love doing that. You can kiss me when we walk past her.”

“I was going to kiss you anyway, don't need an excuse.” He leaned in to demonstrate, feeling himself relax a little bit. Hands grabbed his arse for a moment, then stroked his back. He snuggled into it, feeling Mark sigh when he rested his head on one broad shoulder. “I love you. I can't even...” He swallowed, fighting back burgeoning tears. “I just love you.” He managed.

“I love you too.” Mark murmured. “Let's just do this. Then we'll go into the hospital and get you checked, and then we'll figure out the rest later. But right now, we just have to take Saffy out or she's going to take a shit on the bed in protest.”

Nicky nodded, pulling back. Mark smiled at him, that lopsided smirk that Nicky loved so badly.

“Walk Saffy. We can do that.”

 

*

  
They walked Saffy. Nicky kissed him in front of an irritatingly perfect white-picket fence while three hideous dachshunds yelped at them. Saffy growled at them, then pissed on the footpath. Mark was perversely proud of her, gave her an extra liver treat in congratulations. She was sassy when she was feeling indignant, and Mark loved the crap out of her for it. Especially loved the look she gave Nicky when he bent down to scoop her business up with a plastic bag. He was pretty sure she owned them, not the other way around. She knew it, too.

They left her at home with a heaped bowl of food. Nicky drove them to the hospital. Mark had offered, knew Nicky was erratic when he was emotional, but Nicky had said no. He was being overprotective again. Mark could see the signs, when he'd start opening every door before Mark could reach the handle, kept asking if he needed anything. Hadn't even wanted him walking the dog.

It was cute. Mark liked that Nicky wanted to take care of him. It gave him the shits something fierce, though.

Today was going to be a long day if Nicky kept it up.

“Shit.”

They were halfway there when Nicky spoke up. Mark glanced over.

“What's up?”

“Can you check the glove compartment? I think I've left my wallet somewhere. Shit.”

Mark did. It wasn't there.

“Did you have it when we left work last night?”

“I don't...” He shook his head. “I don't know. I was all fucking flustered, I don't remember... I don't remember taking it out of my pocket when we got home. I just...” He bit his lip. They were stopped in traffic again. This was becoming a habit. “I had it on my desk yesterday. I got out a fifty I owed Blarney from when he did a lunch-run on Monday. I don't remember if I picked it up again.”

“Well...” Mark looked around, getting his bearings. “We're only five minutes from work. Do you want to drop in? It's going to be faster than going back home. Does it have your medical card in it? We can't go to the hospital without it.”

The traffic was starting to move again. Nicky took the next exit, headed towards work.

 

*

 

When he got in it was quiet, still an hour until opening. Nicky went to open the door, leaving Mark sitting in the car listening to the radio, but it was already unlocked. For a moment he panicked, thinking he'd forgotten to lock up the night before in his confused state, but then he heard Shane's voice. He followed it towards the office, looking to get his wallet..

“Oh. Fuck.” He said. “Erm. Sorry.”

The two boys on the desk froze. Nicky didn't know what they thought that was going to achieve, whether they'd somehow disappear into the background if they stayed still long enough. It certainly didn't make it less obvious that Shane's hand was in Kian's jeans.

“Um.” Kian said. His lips were red, his cheeks almost the same colour. He was sat on Shane's desk, the brunette stood between his legs. Shane finally got around to taking his hand out of Kian's boxers, the sound of shifting cotton obscenely loud in the heavy silence.

Nicky started to laugh.

“You, um...” Shane was turning away, doing up his own jeans. “You're here. It's your day off.”

“Left my wallet.” Nicky explained, heading across the room to pick it up off his own desk. There was one problem solved, at least. “How's... your dodgy stomach then? All better?”

“Ehm, yeah.” Shane looked down at his hands. Kian was still sitting on the desk, trying desperately to do up his jeans. “Yeah, feel alright. Thanks.”

“So... so you had that chat, then?” Nicky managed. “The one we were talking about the other day.”

“Sort of.” Shane sank down in his chair. Kian fled the room, mumbling something about maybe hearing his phone ringing, which was interesting because Nicky could see it sticking out of his back pocket. “Sorry. Can you not ask any questions right now?”

“Why not?”

“Because I'm not sure I know the answers.” Shane sighed, burying his face in his hands. “So, yeah, enjoy your day off, and I'll just... get back to work. I'll call you tonight, or something.”

“Will you?”

“Probably not.” Shane shrugged. Nicky smirked. “I was never here, right? Kian wasn't here either. He was just dropping me off. He's got some stuff to do and he'll be in later.”

“...where were you two this early in the morning that you'd need to be dropped off?” Shane flinched. Nicky couldn't stop smirking. Oh, so that's how it was. He wondered just how much of Shane's food poisoning had been real. Maybe Kian had popped round to take care of him. Or maybe the dodgy tummy was just a convenient excuse.

“Fuck off.” Shane said quietly. Nicky leaned over, putting a hand on his shoulder. He was distracted from his own problems for a moment. It was sort of nice, to be focusing on someone else's drama. Even if this was sort of hilarious. “Look, I've got work to do, Kian's off to his dentist's appointment. I've got work to do.”

“It's cool, Shane. It's none of my business.”

“Yeah. I know. I just feel like a fucking idiot and I'd prefer it if you weren't here to see it.” Shane sighed. “Is there much point asking you not to tell Mark?”

“Probably not.” Nicky admitted. “But I can ask him not to tell anyone.”

“Yeah, that'll have to do, I guess.” Shane stood up, dusting his hands on his thighs. Nicky heard the front door slam shut. It seemed Kian was on the retreat. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“You will.” Nicky laughed, turning away from the luminescent embarrassment in Shane's face. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

When he got back in the car the radio was blaring an old Britney Spears song, and Mark was singing along at full belt. Nicky leaned over to kiss him, just because he could.

“Hey. Kian came past a minute ago. Everything all right? He looked in a bit of a hurry.”

Nicky started up the car.

“Have I got a story for you.”

 

*

 

“Well... shit.”

They were sitting in the waiting room. Nicky's tale had just finished. It was quite vivid, the way he told it. There was backstory and everything, a whole chunk about Shane and Kian's indiscretions the week before. Nicky was a quality storyteller. He could just about see Kian's dick in Shane's hand.

“That's what I said.” Nicky laughed. “You should have seen Kian's face. He looked like a tomato.”

“Shit.” Mark snorted, the mental image pretty fantastic. He didn't feel right laughing, though, not considering the chat he'd had with Kian the other day. “What about Jake, though?”

Nicky's face sobered a little. Mark suspected he hadn't even thought about it, had been too caught up with the innate hilarity of busting in on their two best friends in the midst of a hand-job.

“I don't know.” Nicky bit his lip. “There wasn't really a free moment to ask.”

“I was talking to Kian the other day.” Mark said. “He and Jake... I think they're on the outs. Still... they're still together. I don't think Kian was planning on leaving him. I think he thought Jake was cheating on him, actually. So I don't know why he...” He glanced at Nicky. “Unless he thought he was getting his own back. Shagging the boss, sort of thing.”

“Yeah, but then why would they...?” Nicky's eyes opened wider in sudden realisation. “I told Shane to talk to Kian. Shit, I bet that's what he did, and then...”

“Huh.” Mark pursed his lips. “Did we accidentally just do some matchmaking?”

“I think we might have. Or encouraged a bit of adultery.” Nicky bit his lip. “Are we terrible people?”

Mark was going to answer that question, but then they were called into the doctor's office.

She took blood. Nicky asked a bunch of questions Mark had already gotten the answer to, and a bunch that there weren't any answers to. She assured them she'd get the results as soon as possible, told them not to panic, to use protection, and gave them both a lollipop from the jar on her desk.

Nicky's tongue was turning green by the time they got back in the car. Mark leaned over, tasting sugar on his mouth when they kissed, then pulled out of the parking lot, weaving through the traffic that had eased up since the morning's gridlock. He turned up the radio, trying to break the oppressive silence that was settling. By the time they were a few blocks from home, he'd even managed to get Nicky to sing along.

He liked Nicky's voice. It was sweet and a little hoarse. His dad had run a karaoke gig when Nicky was a kid, so he could carry a tune well, but he always seemed a little reluctant to really let go. When he got going, though, it was gorgeous. Mark loved it, that self-conscious little smirk he'd get when he was belting out something, his cheeks a little pink when Mark complimented him.

He was doing it now, singing along to a Rihanna song and staring out the window. One hand was scratching the bandaid on the inside of his elbow, a spot of blood starting to show through the gauze. Mark wanted to reach out and touch him, but knew he'd have to take his hand off the wheel, and maybe run the risk of distracting Nicky. He didn't want to distract Nicky. Didn't want this to stop. Didn't want that tearful, worried look he was bound to get when Nicky let reality fall back in on him.

He pulled into their driveway and braked. Turned to look at Nicky. Nicky was already staring at him.

“You want to drink a whole bunch of vodka and pass out on the couch?”

Nicky opened his mouth, as if to say something. Something about if that was healthy, probably. Mark was getting sick of this, of the assumption that he was suddenly dying. He was fine. He felt fine. He wanted to get blasted and watch a movie with lots of explosions and a protagonist with a face like a melted candle. Eat that massive chocolate bunny they'd been saving in the back of cupboard since Easter, neither of them wanting to admit they both wanted to inhale the whole thing in one go. He wanted to do those things with Nicky, because god knew they both needed a bit of a distraction.

Nicky nodded.

“Yeah, okay. Sounds like a plan.”

 

*

 

It was halfway into the second movie, two thirds of the way into a bottle of vodka, and three quarters of the way through an enormous chocolate rabbit that Nicky realised Mark was asleep. He'd dropped off quite inconspicuously at some point, was still sitting up in the same spot, his head tilted against the back of the couch, mouth wide open.

Nicky turned the TV down a little bit and paused the movie, knowing Mark would get annoyed if he missed any of it. Bruce Willis was riding a motorbike into a helicopter. Things were exploding. It was a really terrible film. He flicked over to the TV and started channel surfing, shuffling over to lay his head in Mark's lap, trying not to wake him up. He was snoring. Nicky didn't mind. He flicked through a few more channels, settled on a rerun of Never Mind The Buzzcocks, and snuggled in, pulling Mark's arm over his shoulder. Felt him warm and heavy, fingers draped over Nicky's chest.

He wanted to say something. Something grand and sweeping about how they were in this together. About how he would never, ever leave. Even if the news was bad, even if Mark was... sick. He would be here. There was nowhere else he could be. That he'd nag and coddle and do everything that gave Mark the shits, because the alternative would be not doing any of it. He wanted to tell Mark that he'd decided. That it hadn't even been a decision. He hadn't even considered it. He was here. He was staying right fucking here.

But Mark was asleep.

He didn't realise he'd fallen asleep himself until he was woken by dog-breath on his face. Saffy was sitting on his chest, blocking his view of Mark. When he pushed her out of the way and looked up, it was onto closed eyes and a gaping mouth, head propped awkwardly on one hand, elbow on the arm of the couch. Nicky sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes, tasting alcohol on his tongue. The pug was bouncing on the floor in front of him, looking expectant. It was too dark in here, and a quick look out the window revealed that the sun was on the way down, casting long shadows over the tiny garden on the other side of the glass sliding doors.

“Dinner time?” He asked. Didn't expect an answer. She ran to the kitchen, stopped in the doorway. Tilted her head at him. He followed her in, clumsily shaking some biscuits into her bowl. He couldn't figure out if he was drunk or just sleepy. Probably both. His hands looked really far away.

When he got back Mark was still asleep. He turned off the TV, staring at him for a second. Went into the bedroom to grab a blanket. Draped it over him. He didn't wake, just mumbled something incoherent and snuggled down onto the arm of the couch, legs stretching out along the seats. Nicky tucked the blanket in, kissing his forehead. Mark pressed into it, and for a moment Nicky didn't know how his heart wasn't pushing out through his ribs.

He went outside to sit on the patio loveseat. The sky was grey. The grass was damp. The air was still. There was a beetle trundling along the edge of the concrete paving. Nicky watched it for a bit, letting his mind drift. Saffy came out after a bit, barked at the beetle, then ate it. Nicky sighed, staring up at clouds that threatened rain.

“I don't know what to do, Saff.” He said finally. There was a breeze pushing at his bare arms, rippling his t-shirt. He felt grey, and old. “It's probably nothing, right? I mean, I'm obviously being crazy. He's always fine. Right?”

She was ignoring him, was snuffling at a low bush in the corner. There was a half-chewed ball under there that she'd lost interest in about six months ago. She nosed it out, then sat down to chew on it, looking deeply satisfied. He stared at her.

“He's probably fine, but if he isn't...” Nicky shook his head. “If he's not, I don't know what I'll do. I know he'll be okay, even if it's not good news. There's medication and that, and people are getting along these days. My cousin's friend was positive, and she was fine. Except she got a bad cold once and spent eight weeks in the hospital with pneumonia. They thought she was going to d...” He cut himself off. It didn't bear thinking about. “But she was okay. She's still going.”

He smiled ruefully when she dropped the sticky, misshapen ball at his feet. He picked it up, tossed it away. It couldn't go very far, their garden was smaller than their bathroom. She managed to get up quite good speed though, before she ran out of room and almost collided with the fence.

“You think I'm a fucking idiot, don't I? Of course I am, I'm talking to a dog.” She dropped the ball at his feet again. He tossed it again. Rinse and repeat. She looked absurdly happy. “Will you miss him, if something happens? Or will you be happy as long as you still get fed? I'll still feed you.” He pegged the ball at the tall privacy fence, watched it bounce off and roll back under the same bush as before. “I mean, I'll be fucking useless otherwise, but I'll take care of you. Because he loves you. So...” His shoulders were starting to shake. He couldn't help it. Buried his face in his hands, unable to stop a crumpled, fond smile when Saffy came into view, staring up from between his feet. He picked the ball up again, threw it away, didn't look where. Heard it bounce off something, probably the fence. Heard her snuffle around and start to run back over, reached out automatically to take the ball from her.

Looked up in surprise when she yapped happily and dashed after a ball that was already skipping across the grass.

“Hey.” Mark was rubbing his eyes, the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders. “I slept for ages.” He reached down, wrestling the ball out of sharp, determined teeth, and sat down next to Nicky on the love-seat. She was jumping for it, but he was teasing her, waving it above her head, getting it just close enough that she could smell it, then passing it behind his back. She was going mad. “You want it?” He teased, showing it to her. Then tossed it hard, watched it skitter off the fence and down the side of the house, out of sight. She charged after it, tongue lolling happily down her chin. “How long you been up?”

“Not long.” Nicky shrugged, trying to brush away the tears he was sucking back, not wanting to upset his husband. Mark shifted over until he could wrap the blanket around both their shoulders, the woollen tassels on the corner tickling Nicky's arm. “Think it's going to rain. We should go inside.”

Mark tugged him closer, kissing his cheek. He was warm from sleep, smelled slightly of vodka and chocolate. “Let's stay here for a bit. It's just rain, anyway. We get a bit wet, so what? We could kiss in it, and pretend we're in Spider-man.”

“You gonna hang upside down?” Nicky laughed, the image was too absurd. Mark was absurd. And funny. And sweet. And... fuck. Fuck.

“I could hang upside down. I'll get my knees over the fence, and you can kneel in the bushes. It'll be great.” Mark chuckled, reaching out of Nicky's embrace for a moment to grab the ball Saffy had managed to find. She was covered in cobwebs and dirt, looked totally happy. The ball skidded away again. “I'd be a great Spider-Man.” A drop of rain fell on the concrete in front of him. Nicky pressed back into the chair, trying to get a little bit of cover from the gutter jutting out above them. It sort of worked. The grey pavers were becoming stippled with water. His feet were starting to get wet.

“I know the first thing I thought when I met you was 'I bet that lad would make a great Spider-man'.”

“Really?”

“No, I think it was something more like 'fucking Bryan, this is going to be a pain in the arse'.”

“You were sort of right.” Mark leaned forward. Nicky watched droplets of light spring rain collect in his hair. It was barely raining, more like a heavy fog. “How long until you realised I was Spider-man?”

“Oh, I figured that out eventually. But I realised you were smoking hot when you came down for your first line-up. You looked like sex on a goddamn stick, and I didn't know what to do with myself. I just about embarrassed myself right there in the hall.”

Mark snorted, tugging the blanket up over his head. Nicky leaned forward as well, snuggling up in the little canopy Mark was creating. The wool was getting soaked, was itching his back through his shirt, but he didn't really care.

“When did you realise?”

“What, that I'm Spider-man?” Mark must have caught Nicky's expectant smile, because he rolled his eyes. “Ehm... dunno. I thought you were fit, like, and then when I accidentally walked in on you in the shower on my third or fourth day I was like 'phwoar, alright'. I dunno, it was just kind of gradual. I think I was flirting with you without meaning to.” He shrugged. “That sounds really boring, I guess, but it was quite nice falling in love with you. Just a bit at a time. It wasn't, like, dramatic or anything, I just...” He shrugged, making the blanket shift. Nicky grabbed his hand, feeling the fingers warm and slippery in the damp air. “I don't know. It seemed pointless not to be in love with you. There wasn't really anything else worth doing. There still isn't.”

“Fuck.” Nicky bit his lip, feeling tears start again. Then Mark was kissing him, the blanket falling off to pool around their waists. Saffy had crawled under the bench at some point to hide from the rain. He could hear her gnawing on her ball. Arms wrapped around him, and he slid his fingers into short dark hair, feeling the warmth, the softness. Parted lips. A soft tongue that brushed his, sliding into his mouth. Fingers on his back, coaxing him into it. A hand sliding up his side, stroking over his ribs.

“I love you.” Mark breathed.

“I love you.” Nicky whispered, pushing in, feeling pliant muscles under his fingers when he gripped the back of Mark's neck. “I don't know how to do anything else. I can't...”  
  
“I don't want to talk about it.” Mark replied. “Let's not talk about it.”

 

*

 

Nicky was kissing every inch of him. Every single one. Mark thought about stopping it, wasn't sure if it was a good idea, but there was no denying the demanding blue gaze that slid into him, holding him still while Nicky kissed down his back, licked into the crease of his elbow, slid into the fold of his knees. Sucked at his neck. Pushed into his mouth. Bit down on his scalp, even, his hair damp when Nicky let go.

He didn't know how to explain what was going on. Wasn't even sure he wanted to. Not when he was damp from the rain and they were laid on the rug in front of the unlit fireplace, Nicky's mouth taking in his toes one at a time, sliding up the backs of his calves. Not speaking, not saying anything while Mark gasped out harsh, confused breaths, feeling Nicky's tongue dip into his navel, fingers holding his hips still while Mark tried not to thrust. Tried not to do anything. Tried not to...

...to hurt Nicky.

He didn't want it. Didn't want Nicky's mouth where it was. All he could think of was how much of him Nicky was inhaling in, with his slow, exploring kisses. What he was licking up. Whether Mark was making him sick just by allowing this.

He wanted not to want it. The overpowering feeling of being needed, of Nicky mapping him so thoroughly. It was intoxicating, and overwhelming, and sort of humbling. He couldn't stop blushing, couldn't stop feeling like Nicky was seeing too much of him. But Nicky's eyes were dark, desperate, and Mark couldn't think how to stop him. Couldn't think.

Two fingers pushed into his arse.

Everything was suddenly very clear.

“No.” He said. Realised it hadn't been loud enough. “Nicky, no.” He sat up, already pulling away. Nicky looked up. He was on all fours on the carpet, was already crawling forward while Mark dragged himself back. “Stop it. It's not...”

“I don't care.” Nicky said. Mark stared back at him, shoved away the hand that was reaching for him again. The honesty in his partner's eyes was terrifying in its absoluteness. “I don't.” Mark batted away his hand, sliding backwards again, the rug bunching up under him.

“Stop it.” Mark said. “I said no.” Nicky reached for him again, and he slapped the fingers away, feeling a sudden blaze of powerless anger. Nicky pulled his hand back, but he was still moving forward. “Fucking stop it. This isn't a fucking game.”

Nicky stopped. Sank back onto his knees. Mark stared at him, abruptly realising how hard he was breathing. His lungs hurt in his chest, constricted by sudden livid fright.

“A fucking game?” Nicky said. He laughed. A hollow, awful laugh that made Mark's heart feel like it was empty of everything but bile. “Jesus. Sorry, I must have gotten confused. I thought it was a fucking game, apparently.”

“Nicky...” Mark didn't know how to finish that sentence. He crossed his arms over himself. Hiding himself. For the first time in five years. Saw that Nicky had seen it. He didn't know what else to do. How to stop this. Nicky's ears were going red. “I don't want you getting hurt. Not until we know.”

“And then what?” Nicky stood up, then collapsed heavily back onto the couch. “We're never going to fuck again? That's it? Because I don't think I can do that.”

“We'll use protection.” Mark was trying to be reasonable, he really was, but all he could think of was his own voice saying no. Stop. Nicky not listening. “What, you don't want to be with me if you can't fuck me? Is that how that works?”

“No, I'll fuck you anyway.” Nicky looked at his hands. They were shaking. “Because I don't care. I'm not living without you. I'm not doing this fucking thing without you. I'm not...” He stood up again. A moment later he was climbing the stairs, the heavy footsteps echoing emptily through the house. Mark watched him go, not sure what to do.

In the end he went to the kitchen, made two cups of cocoa, and followed.

 

*

 

He found Nicky in the bath. The tap was running, the water not even up to his waist. His face was buried in his upraised knees, his whole body shaking. Mark put the mugs down on the sink, then sat down on the lip of the tub, resting a hand on the back of Nicky's head. He felt the flinch, but didn't move his hand. Didn't stroke. Just left it there, cupped to the curve of Nicky's skull.

Nicky didn't say anything. When the water reached his chest, he reached out to turn off the tap, then rested his chin on his knees, looking straight ahead into nothing.

Mark sat down on the floor beside him, wriggling a hand between trembling thighs to grasp Nicky's, felt it squeeze faintly, for just a moment. A tear ran down Nicky's cheek.

“I'm so sorry.”

Nicky's voice sounded strange echoing off the tiles. Mark sighed, leaning back against the porcelain.

“You should be. I said no.”

“I know. I didn't listen and I'm....” Nicky swallowed, turning to look at him for the first time since he'd entered the room. “It was unforgivable. I'm so sorry. Jesus.”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. Part of him wanted to say no harm done, but the other part was still shrinking away, feeling the rug bunch up under his arse. He wasn't scared, not of Nicky, knew he could fight him off if he had to, knew objectively Nicky wouldn't have been able to hurt him, but... it was the idea. The violation. The fact that he trusted Nicky and in a moment Nicky just... hadn't cared. Had cared too much, maybe. He felt sick and betrayed, and didn't know what to say that wouldn't come out in a shout. Felt like for a moment Nicky had decided he was in charge of Mark, that Mark didn't have a say. That this was about Nicky. That this thing that was happening to Mark was about Nicky.

He wanted to be selfish for once, not worry about if Nicky was going to burst into tears. If Nicky needed comforting and protecting. He wanted to be able to appreciate that this was a bad situation, for him personally. That this might be a great big fucking disaster that was about to screw up his life, his health, his job, his relationship. Everything that defined him was potentially on a knife-edge. He wanted to kick and scream. Throw things. Not have to worry about hurting someone else's feelings. Not have to worry if Nicky would be offended, or upset, or clingy.

That Nicky would try to ...

...shit, he couldn't even say it.

But it wasn't rape. He couldn't make himself think it. It was just...

He'd said no.

He'd said no, and Nicky had heard him.

Nicky hadn't listened.

“I'm going downstairs to watch TV.” He said finally. “Then I'm going to go sleep in the spare room.”

Nicky drew in a sharp breath. Sounded like he wanted to say something Didn't.

“Come down when you're finished your bath. There's a cup of cocoa there if you want it.” He stood up, heaving himself off the wet tiles. Picked up his own mug, heading for the door. Turned back. Nicky looked very small in the chest-high water. He was looking down at the water in front of him, avoiding eye-contact. Mark wanted to go over and hug him, tell him it was all okay. Make him feel better.

It wasn't okay.

He didn't feel better.

“I'll see you downstairs.”

 

*

 

Nicky lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He'd thought about going downstairs to sit with Mark after he finally dragged himself out of the bath. He could hear the blare of the telly echoing up the stairs. Couldn't do it. Went to bed instead, the sheets cold and strange without Mark beside him.

After a while he heard feet come up the stairs. Light spilled into the room, silhouetting a figure that was so painfully familiar that Nicky could barely stand it.

“Night.” Mark said, softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Nicky replied, tucking the blankets around his chin. “I'm sorry.”

“I know.”

The door closed after that, the darkness enveloping him. Another door closed further down the hall. Nicky settled into the sheets, felt them twist around him, almost suffocating.

Mark had said no. He'd heard it, loud and clear. Had told Mark he didn't care.

Mark had said no, and Nicky had tried to do it anyway.

Mark had said no.

He pulled the blankets over his head, feeling empty and alone.


	5. Thursday

Mark could hear Nicky moving around downstairs. He'd been awake himself for a long time, just laying in bed playing with his phone. He hadn't slept well. His dreams had been thick and confused, swirling with fear and pain and blood. The last thing he'd seen before he'd woken had been the ceiling of Bryan's bedroom. The last thing he'd felt was a bootlace around his wrist.

Nicky had been on top of him, holding him down. Hitting him. Hearing his cries for help and not caring.

He thought about getting up. Decided he couldn't be bothered. What was the point? He'd go downstairs, Nicky would be there, they'd probably fight, Nicky would cry, and then Mark would probably forgive him, just so they wouldn't have to fight any more and he could forget that Nicky had...

Maybe he was being over-dramatic. He'd not been this affected when he actually had been raped. And not just raped, but assaulted as well. The whole thing felt so long ago now, like something that might have happened to someone else.

But this was Nicky. Nicky, who worshipped him to the point where it was flattering and a bit irritating in its absoluteness. They didn't even fight, not outside the occasional squabble over who accidentally left the milk out. There never seemed much point. There was never anything worth fighting about.

And anyway, Nicky would just get upset, turn on the waterworks, say sorry, and Mark would forgive him. For whatever it was.

He didn't want to have to forgive this. Not yet. He didn't want to brush it under the rug, pretend it hadn't happened, then feel it sitting there, days, weeks, months later. Festering. Coming between them, making them sick.

He loved Nicky. Was married to him. Wanted him for the rest of his life. Wanted to be able to trust him.

There were feet on the stairs. Mark glanced at the alarm clock. Almost nine. Nicky would have to leave for work soon.

There was a tentative knock on the door. It sounded wrong, Nicky asking for permission. Though if he'd just done that in the first place...

“Yeah?”

The door cracked open, revealing eyes that looked red and tired. Mark realised he was curling his knees up without meaning to, protecting himself. He didn't know what from. Nicky looked like a puff of wind would drop him.

“You coming to work?”

“No. Bad back.” The door pushed open a little more. Nicky stared at him for a moment. “Have a good day. I'll see you tonight.”

“Marky, I'm...”

“Have a good day.” Mark interrupted. Nicky bit his lip.

“I'll... yeah, okay.” Nicky looked like he was trying to figure out what to say. Whatever it was, Mark didn't feel like hearing it. “I love you.”

“I know. I'll see you tonight.”

He'd wanted to say it back. He did love Nicky, more than life, but if felt too much like forgiveness, like giving in to what Nicky wanted him to do.

“Yeah.” Nicky's voice was soft and hoarse. The door closed. Footsteps went back down the stairs. The front door clicked shut. Nicky's car crunched down the gravel drive, then drove away.

Mark got up.

 

*

 

Nicky sat behind his desk, watching Cody ride a guy who had to be pushing seventy. He was a good kid, with boundless enthusiasm for the job even if he was a bit shy in person.

He switched over to Jeremy, who was fucking a really short guy in the ensuite shower, kissing his neck, holding his hands against the tiles. Nicky wasn't exactly tall himself, but the client had barely come up to his chin. Jeremy kept having to bend his knees to get it in him.

For the thousandth time that day, he thought about calling Mark. For the thousandth time, he decided against it. Mark probably wouldn't have picked up anyway.

He didn't know what had made him do it. Maybe he'd been trying to prove something. That he still wanted Mark, that this wasn't some kind of deal-breaker. That he wasn't as scared as he thought he was. That if Mark was sick, if it was real, then Nicky would risk everything for him. That if Mark made Nicky sick, Nicky would happily wear the consequences. That it wouldn't be so bad, maybe, if he did get sick. Because then he would have to live without him.

It was an awful empty thought. Nicky didn't know if he would have let it go that far, if he would have actually fucked Mark if he'd been allowed. They always used protection, and this was the worst possible time to stop, but maybe if he had he wouldn't have regretted it all that much. They could be sick together. They could take care of each other.

He thought about calling Mark. Decided against it.

But Mark had pushed him off. Said no. Tried to protect Nicky. And what had Nicky done except prove he didn't deserve Mark's protection? That, out of all the people in the world, Nicky was the one he couldn't trust? That keeping Mark was more important than respecting Mark and making him happy?

He wanted Mark to be happy. He did. But in that stupid blind moment, his mouth filled with the taste of Mark's skin, he'd forgotten somehow.

He thought about calling Mark. Actually picked up the phone for a second.

Decided against it.

He didn't know what to say, anyway.

 

*

 

“You look like shit.” Bryan said. Mark shrugged, not disagreeing. Bryan stared at him for a minute, then stepped back to let him through. “Coming in?”

Bryan's place was more or less the same since the last time he'd been here, almost five years ago. He and Bryan were still friends, were probably better friends now that they didn't work together, but Mark hadn't been able to come here, not after the incident that drove him to leave. It was like a black cloud, disguised as a brothel, disguised as a large, tidy house in the suburbs.

There were about six guys in the common room, none of which Mark recognised. Bryan led him through to his office, called for some tea which was brought in a moment later by a tall muscular guy wearing nothing but an apron and a thong.

“I like your maid.”  
  
“Thanks. I like him too.” Bryan laughed. He'd always been one for the flash, had Bryan. It wasn't really Mark's speed, he preferred the personal intimacy of Nicky's. He liked people, thought he might have liked to get into escorting instead if he hadn't been so young when he'd first started out. Fresh off the train from Dublin, needing a job, and he'd seen a flyer in a local club for friendly guys that were happy to bend over and take it. He knew he could do that, so he'd headed round to Bryan's twenty-two years old, and gotten the job. Been surprised that Bryan even owned a place like that at his age, then discovered that it had sort of been bequeathed to him when the old owner had retired to Italy with his boyfriend.

He liked the personal side, though, and at the time all he'd known was that getting fucked for money was easy, hadn't thought highly enough of himself to consider the boyfriend experience as an option. But if things had worked out differently, he might never have met Nicky, been so happy despite the constant rollercoaster of their lives. Nicky's place was safe and comfortable, and made both the staff and the clients feel like they were at home, were accepted. Still, he couldn't deny that Bryan was successful at what he did, even if he enjoyed a few indulgences.

“What brings ya? Haven't seen you since your anniversary do.”

“Just thought I'd pop in. Say hi.” Which wasn't a lie. He'd just wanted to get out of the house, couldn't think where else to go. His family lived hours away, and most of his friends were Nicky's friends or employees. He didn't want to face that. Didn't want the constant reminder. He knew, objectively, that Bryan and Nicky were sort of friends, but it was more of a business relationship, sort of a friendly rivalry that had sometimes culminated in a bit of meaningless shagging. Mark didn't mind that, so much, but Bryan was far more his friend than he was Nicky's, and that was at least a good start.

“That sounds like a load of crap.”

Mark shrugged, picking up a chocolate biscuit and idly dunking it in the tea. Meant to eat it, but just kind of kept dunking it, until it started to fall apart in his hand.

“You know you haven't been back here. Not since...”

Mark shrugged again.

“Which makes me want to ask, what's up? You look like shit. And for god's sake, eat that damn biscuit or don't. You're pissing me off.”

“Yeah, okay.” He shoved it in his mouth. The chocolate stuck to his palate on the way down, making him want to gag. “Sorry. We had a bit of a fight. I just wanted some peace. Was driving around, and then I just figured...” He swallowed again, the chocolate like glue in the back of his throat. “Dunno. Thought I'd come say hi.”

“A fight with Nicky?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah. You know. It'll probably be fine.” It probably would. He knew that, despite the anger and hurt he was feeling. “We haven't really fought before. I don't know. I don't want to talk to him right now.”

“A fight? Is that all? Shit, I fight with most of my boyfriends before we make it to the third date.”

“Yeah, but...” Mark picked up another biscuit, despite the rolling feeling in his stomach. Dunked it. Watched Bryan's irritated grimace. “We don't fight. It's not what we do. We just get on with it. I love him. I don't want to fight with him, but I'm really upset. I don't want to have to forgive him just to stop us fighting.”

“So don't.” Bryan shrugged. Mark looked up in surprise. “Come on, you two _never_ fight?”

“No. Not really. He just gets upset and says sorry and I... I dunno. I just forgive him. It's impossible not to. I love him.”

“I don't know that love has much to do with it.” Bryan picked up a biscuit of his own, shoved it in his mouth, and licked his fingers clean. Mark envied his ease, his comfort. “It doesn't really count as not fighting if you just give in. It's not good for you. He doesn't piss you off sometimes?”

Mark thought back. Sure, Nicky did some things that irritated him. He always left used tea-bags in the sink. Left wet clothes in the washing machine for days until they had to be washed again before they could go in the dryer. Was clingy sometimes, seemed to be climbing Mark like a ladder when he was in a mood. Was terribly stubborn when it came to asking for help, especially at the expense of his own safety or sanity. Kept putting his phone on silent, losing it, and then making Mark help look for it. Kept changing channels when Mark was watching something. Left empty cups lying around the house like breadcrumbs.

“He annoys me sometimes, I guess. But I'm sure I annoy him.”

“You don't ever want to just yell at him?”

“No, not really.” Mark admitted. “But sometimes I just...”

“Want to punch him in the face?”

“Maybe. No.” He shook his head, twisting his wedding ring on his finger. It felt too tight. Bryan was blazing through the biscuits. He grabbed another one before they ran out. He was sure Bryan could get his maid to bring more, but he didn't really want people around him, not right now. “I don't want to hurt his feelings.”

“He's not five. I'm sure he can take it.”

Mark didn't really know if that was true. Nicky's first response to any problem seemed to be getting upset, or angry, or sullen. Or he'd start wheedling, get up in Mark's face, trying to kiss him and apologise when half the time it wasn't even his fault. Wasn't anybody's fault. Maybe Mark had let it go too long, had given the impression that Nicky could get his own way, would be forgiven for anything. For something as little as leaving wet towels on the floor. For something as big as...

No. He wasn't going to blame himself for this. Maybe he'd led Nicky on a bit, gotten naked and let him do what he'd done. It had been nice, Nicky's intensity while he'd kissed every inch of Mark's body, every hair and pore and scar. He'd allowed it, because it felt safe, because it was Nicky. He had felt safe.

He'd said no, though.

He was really angry. Really really fucking angry in a way that couldn't be brushed away with tears and apologies. This wasn't a tiff, or a squabble, or a passing spat.

He could be sick. Knew he'd have to rely on Nicky if he was. Knew he'd have to trust him.

Didn't know how to, not any more.

“Anyway....” He changed the subject quickly. He hadn't come to talk about this, just for a bit of company. “How's business? You lot still managing without me?”

Bryan was laughing, then, and stumbling into a story about a hooker with a prolapsed colon. Mark found himself laughing too, despite himself.

He thought about calling Nicky. Decided against it.

He wouldn't have known what to say.

 

*

 

“What's wrong with you? You look like shit.”

“Yeah, thanks Shane.” Nicky had stopped trying to work hours ago. At first he'd thrown himself into it hard, trying to distract himself, but it had been bloody pointless and there wasn't much to do, so instead he'd put his feet up on the desk, leaned back in his chair, and done some solid brooding, running his fingers over the chain clasped around his neck, the chain that felt far too light without Mark's rings on it. He knew he could always go and hang out with the guys, pop back in for safety checks every now and then, but the company somehow made it worse, made him feel more ashamed. Made it more obvious that Mark wasn't here.

He'd been without Mark at work on occasion, of course he had, when one of them was home sick. But it had been okay, because when he got home he knew Mark was there waiting for him. And there had been those couple of times Mark had gone up to Sligo for a few days to visit his family, but that had been okay too, because Nicky had gotten to wait for him at the train station and see the joy on Mark's face when he stepped off the train and saw Nicky.

He didn't know what to expect when he got home. Part of him didn't even want to go home, see the hatred and betrayal on Mark's face. Part of him wanted to go right now, fake a stomach ache or something, and be apologising within the next ten minutes, trying to make a start on making this okay.

“No. I'm fine. Didn't sleep well.”

“Yeah, know what you mean.” Shane collapsed into his chair, mirroring Nicky's pose. His feet thumped up onto the desk. “Mark's not here?”

“No. Put his back out helping me move the TV cabinet.”

“Nasty. He okay?”

“Yeah. Just needs a bit of time.” Nicky bit his lip. One of his shoelaces had come undone, and he watched it drape across the desk, thought about doing it up, couldn't be bothered.

“Sorry about yesterday.”

Nicky stared at him for a moment, confused, then realised he'd totally forgotten about barging in on Shane and Kian in the middle of a fairly indiscreet handjob. It felt like days ago, with all the madness of the last twenty-four hours.

“It's fine.” He said finally. “Everything okay with you two?”

“Yeah, sort of. I popped round his last night to apologise, but he was out. Think he must have been at Jake's maybe.” Nicky didn't miss the sadness in the corner of his eyes, nor the way Shane's cheeks turned a little pink. “I... um... I went round his on Monday night. Drove him home, sort of thing, because he'd gotten the bus in and it was late. You know, I give him a lift sometimes. Whatever. But...” He shook his head. “I don't know. It was weird, because of last week, and we just started talking a bit, trying to clear the air, and he invited me in for a cup of tea. And then...”

“And then?”

“Um, yeah.” Shane blushed red. “Um. He was blowing me when I called in sick.”

Nicky burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. Shane was covering his face and looking mortified, and Nicky's feet were falling off the table with laughter, his eyes burning with tears. He rested his head on the desk, feeling his chest hurt with it.

“Oh. Jesus.” He managed when he finally calmed down. Hiccups of laughter were still bursting out of his chest. Shane was slumping over to close the door, his hands bunched into nervous fists by his side. “You two have a dirty weekend, did you?”

“No. Yes. Sort of.” Shane shook his head, sinking back into his chair. “We actually didn't shag that much. I mean, we did, but we... we just hung out, mostly. Watched some telly, went for a walk down the shops to grab some takeaway. Played some video games and just... I dunno. We didn't really talk about anything important, which was sort of the point of me going over there in the first place. To talk about it. But it was just... It was nice. Just being with him. I don't...”

“So you like Kian?”

“I've always liked Kian. He's my friend. We've always just been friends. I never even thought of him that way, not until last week.”

“And now?”

“I don't know. It was good just to be with someone. Someone I already know I get along with. And hell, the shagging was a bonus. I haven't been in a relationship for ages, so maybe I just needed that. Maybe it wasn't even about Kian.”

“So it could have been anybody?”

Shane sighed. “No.” He looked over at Nicky. “But he's with Jake. It was a huge mistake. He knows it, I could tell yesterday when he came back in for his shift. We fucked up. We did a big stupid thing. He's going to tell Jake, probably, apologise, and hopefully they'll work it out. They've been together five years. I'd feel awful if...” He stood up again, began to pace a little bit. He kept running his hand through his hair. It was getting messy and starting to tilt to the left. “Fuck. What if he never wants to talk to me again? I don't want that.”

“I'm sure it wouldn't go that far.” Nicky stood up too, reached out to put a hand on Shane's shoulder. “Come on. You did something a bit silly, and he's probably embarrassed and feeling guilty. He'll snap out of it. Just...” He was going to say 'keep your hands out of his pants' but that would have been crass. “...be his friend.”

He wanted to say that Kian and Jake were probably on the way out. That, if what Mark said was anything to go by, Kian would probably be single again in the quite near future. Shane and Kian obviously had something, but there was no point trying to force it. They'd come together on their own, or they wouldn't. And if they didn't, they still needed to be friends. There was no point meddling yet.

“You told Mark, didn't you?”

“About five seconds after I got back in the car.” Nicky admitted. “It's okay, he won't tell anyone.”

“Yeah, I know.” Shane stood up, opened the office door again. Nicky could hear the boys out there, giggling over something, the blare of the TV. Blarney was saying something loud and offensive. Cody and Liam were upstairs, doing fine if a glance at the screens was anything to go by. It was all very normal. “Hey, speaking of Mark, we still don't have his health checks.”

Nicky froze. Forced a smile. It felt too big, like his teeth were crowding for space.

“Um. Yeah. There was a bit of a delay. Should have them in like... three or four days. Sorry.”

“No, that's fine. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. The first lot were a bit off, so they're just doing them again. Some sort of lab screw-up, you know? Nothing to worry about.” He was trying to sound flippant, he really was. It felt false. Shane raised an eyebrow, but then seemed to buy it, turning back to his computer.

Nicky put his feet back up on the desk, and resumed staring into space.

 

*

 

Mark was annoyed, because his nose had been running pretty much since he'd left Bryan's. This was just what he needed, to be getting sick on top of all this other crap going on. He knew it was because he'd been stupid enough to sit out in the rain the day before, but it had just been so nice, playing with Saffy, snuggling with Nicky on the love-seat, and having stupid, random conversations about nothing.

He grabbed the blanket that one of them had left to dry over a chair. Couldn't remember if he'd done it himself or not. He was all muddled up, was running out of focus. He put on his pyjamas and a pair of thick socks, wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, and went to make some tea, determined to kill this thing before he was a snotty, coughing mess. He considered lighting a fire, but it seemed like a lot of effort that could better be spent turning himself into a bundle in front of the TV, so he did that instead.

Saffy came over to snuggle up with him a moment later, turning herself into a heavy, sleeping lump on his legs. It wasn't all that comfortable, but he didn't have the heart to move her, not when there were tiny, wheezing snores working their way out of that flat, wrinkled face.

He'd stayed out a lot longer than he'd meant to, just gone driving for a bit after he'd left Bryan's. They'd been busy, and he hadn't wanted to intrude. He could feel the hairs on his neck standing up from just being in the place, too, and by the time he'd left he'd felt claustrophobic and agitated. Not that it was anything against Bryan – the company was always quality – it was just the memories. There had been good ones there too, of course, but the bad ones were too big to see past.

He'd driven into town, gone for a walk around. Not bought anything, but just kind of meandered, looking in a few shops. In a strange way, it had been quite nice, not having Nicky standing over his shoulder asking if he was done yet, or having to wait hours while his husband tried on twelve pairs of jeans and then bought a jacket instead. He'd checked out a couple of cameras – he'd taken a lot of photos on their holiday and some had turned out quite well, and he was interested in having a play with something a bit more professional. There was a gorgeous shot of Nicky sitting near the pier at Dun Laoghaire, casting shadows down the beach in the pink glow of the sunset. Mark wanted to get it framed.

So he'd checked out a few frames, didn't find anything he wanted, really, so grabbed a juice and headed back to the car. Stopped for groceries on the way home and ended up rambling around the shopping centre for a bit, having a glance in the windows. He'd ended up stood in front of the pet shop for about ten minutes, making faces at a gorgeous little English bulldog with similar colouring to Saffy, then bought her a new ball because he'd felt a bit guilty looking at other dogs.

She was rolling over in her sleep to lay on her back, now her head hanging awkwardly off his thigh. He reached down to scratch her chin, got a pleased growl.

He glanced at the clock.

Nicky would be home soon.

He didn't know if he was happy about that or not. It was Nicky. There was always a bright rush of anticipation whenever they'd been apart, even if it was just while he was upstairs on the job. Not that today hadn't been nice. It really had. It had been a long time since he'd gotten to feel that kind of autonomy. Not have to worry about whether Nicky was bored, or look at something random in a shop and justify why, have a full blown conversation about why he had just picked up a set of spatulas shaped like animals when he'd just wanted to have a look, put it back, and move on with the rest of his life.

But he did kind of miss Nicky.

Right on time there was the sound of keys in the door. Mark tossed the blanket off his shoulders onto the floor, dragged off his socks. He knew they were for his own health, but in a perverse way he didn't want to look weak when Nicky came in. Wanted to look casual, as though he wasn't as affected by last night as he knew he was. He wanted to be angry, not pathetic. He wanted...

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Mark nodded. Nicky nodded back. He was standing in the doorway, his feet shuffling like he wasn't sure if he should come in. “How was work?”

“Fine. It was work.” Nicky's shoulders slumped a little. “Ehm. Gonna go make a cup of tea. Do you want one?”

“That'd be great. Thanks.” Mark nodded. Nicky nodded back. Went into the kitchen. Mark could hear the rattle of spoons on porcelain. A moment later there was the sound of a box of dog-biscuits being shaken. Saffy went from unconscious to awake in under a second, stumbling over herself in her haste to tumble off the couch and barrel into the kitchen. Mark watched her go, snorting a laugh.

Nicky came back a moment later with the tea, and put the mug down on the coffee table instead of handing it to him directly. Mark reached out to pick it up, blowing gently to cool it down. Nicky perched on the arm at the other end of the sofa, staring at some cooking show on the telly.

“I went to visit Bryan today.” He said finally. Nicky nodded, turned his face toward Mark but didn't look at him. Just kind of stared at his feet. In an odd way, it reminded Mark of when Saffy was trying to suck up to another dog, bowing her head and not making eye-contact, her tail all tucked up underneath. It almost made him want to laugh, except he kind of wanted to cry too.

“Oh. How's he?”

“Good.” Mark shrugged. “How was today? Was it busy?”

“It was okay. I mostly just hung out in the office with Shane.” As Mark watched, Nicky slid off the arm of the couch and onto the seat. It was a three-seater, so there was still a few feet between them. If Mark stretched out his legs, he could probably touch Nicky's side. He didn't really want to. “He wanted to know where your health checks were, so I said there'd been a screw-up at the doctor's and we were waiting still.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Mark took a sip of his coffee. It was still a bit hot, but he didn't mind. “Did you find out what's going on with him and Kian?”

“Sort of. Not much. Shane's pretty embarrassed, and I don't think Kian wants to talk about it. So, you know. He's gone back to Jake, Shane reckons.”

Mark nodded. There wasn't much to say to that. He'd never really thought about it, but Shane and Kian would probably make quite a cute couple. Still, it was their lives, and Kian was in a relationship. Mark had his own problems to deal with.

They sat in silence for a long time, staring at the television. Saffy came back in and plonked herself down on the rug in front of them, scratching her ear clumsily with her back leg, almost falling over in the process. Nicky gave her a fond smile, breaking through the awkward frown that had been fixed to his face since he'd gotten home. The sun went down. Mark got up to turn on the lights, and then went to make a quick dinner, silently handing Nicky a bowl of macaroni and cheese once it was done. Nicky accepted it, managed about four forkfuls and then put it down to go cold, the cheese turning into yellow glue within an hour. They watched some BBC documentary about elephants, which was quite interesting, and when it was done Mark stood up, stretched, yawned, and said goodnight.

“Night.” Nicky looked up at him. The first time he'd made eye-contact all night. Mark reached down to run a hand through his hair on the way past, the first time they'd touched. Nicky reached up to take it, squeezed it for a minute, then let go. “Do you want me to come?”

“I'm gonna sleep in the spare room, so...” Mark trailed off. Heard Nicky sigh, saw blue eyes fill with tears. “We'll look at it in the morning, alright? I love you.”

“I love you too.” Nicky croaked, looking back down at his hands. “I'm really sorry.”

“I know.” Mark bent down to kiss his forehead, felt Nicky tremble under his lips. “I'm really upset, but it doesn't mean I don't love you, alright?” He wasn't going to, but before he realised it he was on his knees, pulling Nicky into a hug. “Just bear with me.” Hands clenched on his back, pulling him closer, but he let go before it could turn into something more. “Goodnight, Nix.”

“I... yeah.” Nicky murmured. He swallowed painfully. “Night, Marky.”


	6. Friday

When Nicky woke up it had just gone dawn. The room was still dark, but he could hear birds starting to wake up, see the frost of sunlight on the edge of the curtains. He closed his eyes again, wanting to get a bit more sleep after a restless night.

He heard footsteps in the hall. Mark was up already, apparently. Nicky pressed his face into the pillow, torn between rushing out there and leaping on him, and hiding in here forever.

He was surprised then, when the door creaked open behind him. The mattress rolled for a second, and then there was a warm, soft body pressed to his back, arms coming around his chest to hold him tight.

“Mark?”

“Shh.” Mark said, pressing his face into the back of Nicky's neck. “Just go back to sleep.”

Nicky nodded, feeling tears leak out from behind his eyelids and down his cheeks.

 

*

 

Nicky was doing the afternoon shift, which gave them most of the morning together. They walked Saffy in silence, but didn't try to do their traditional kiss when they heard the sound of yapping dachshunds. They walked past instead, waited ten minutes while Saffy tried to decide which tree most deserved to be crapped on, scooped it up, and took her back home.

Nicky put in a load of laundry, and Mark sat back to watch Saffy bark at the dryer, which was apparently taunting her somehow. When he called her, she gave it a last, defiant glare, then wandered off to stare down a butterfly that had dared to wander into her garden. Mark sat on the love-seat, thought about getting out that new ball he'd bought her, and then decided that was far too much of a commitment when she was already entertaining herself. He lit up a cigarette instead. Nicky stood in the doorway, watching her bounce around the garden after her new nemesis.

“Bum one?”

Mark passed over the packet. Nicky took one then handed it back, sitting down to let Mark light it for him.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Mark sighed, reaching out to put an arm around Nicky's shoulders. It felt wrong, having physical distance between them. He felt Nicky stiffen for a moment, then lean into him. “Why'd you do it?”

Nicky sighed, leaning forward onto his knees. Mark kept a hand on his back, stroking gently when he felt the tension radiating from him. He knew Nicky was probably about to cry, but he was determined not to react, to see this thing through properly.

“I don't know. I think...” Nicky shook his head, voice already sounding wet and clogged. “I was angry and frightened and I just thought... if you're sick. Like, if you really are, then... then I want to be in that with you. Like... God, it all sounds so fucking feeble. It made sense at the time.” He turned to look at Mark, and Mark leant forward next to him, trying to understand as best he could. “Like, maybe you were gonna make me sick anyway, and why not knock that on the head right now instead of being terrified of it forever? I love you. I don't want to be scared of you.” He wiped his nose, looking down at his hands. “I didn't mean to... I didn't mean I don't care about you. I just wanted you to know. That I didn't care if you were sick. Like I care, but I still love you. I went about it all wrong, and I'm so sorry.”

Mark let out the breath he'd been holding.

“Jesus.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, I gathered.” He bit his lip, reaching out to brush Nicky's hair out of his eyes. He hadn't styled it up yet, it was still all floppy from the shower. “If I hadn't pushed you off, would you have done it?”

“I don't know.” Nicky whispered. “I don't think so. But honestly... I don't know. Maybe. And maybe I would have regretted it after. And maybe I wouldn't. I'm just...” He stood up, walked out onto the grass and stomped out his cigarette. He looked up at the sky.

“You know what? I'm really fucking pissed off. I'm pissed off that if this doesn't go right then all this is fucked up, and I'm pissed off that I need you so much because I know that this will kill me. This will fucking kill me. And then I feel really fucking selfish and stupid because this isn't even about me. This is about you. You're going to be the one getting sick and being on medication and having to quit work when you probably only caught it because of what I fucking pay you to do and I don't fucking know how to deal with that, because at least if it was me I wouldn't have to... to...”

He walked over and kicked the wall, his foot thunking heavily into the siding. “If I lose me, then I don't fucking know about it. That's fine. I'll be sick, yeah, but I won't have to watch you be. And then I won't have to lose you, because if you lose me, I know you can go on without me. But I don't know... I don't know if I can.”

He kicked the wall again, then slumped forward, arm braced against the wall, his whole body heaving. Mark was on his feet and gathering him up before he'd even realised he'd stubbed out his cigarette. He felt Nicky shake against him, felt fists drum uselessly on his chest.

“I can't.” He sobbed. “Don't make me.”

“Nix...” Mark felt Nicky start to collapse, sank with him, guided him down until they were leant together against the side of house. Saffy came over to sniff at them, obviously wondering what the hell they were doing. Mark ignored her, stroking Nicky's hair. “You great big idiot.”

There was a wet laugh against his chest. Mark smiled, kissing his forehead.

“If I am sick, who do you think is going to make sure I hang around forever? Who's going to make sure I'm taking all the right drugs and eating healthy and all that garbage? You'll be nagging me until I'm eighty.” He promised. “But if you get sick, I won't have you to do that shit for me, and we'll both throw in the towel. We're both useless at taking care of ourselves, you know that.”

“I'll take care of you. I'm not letting you go.”

“I know, dickhead. That's why you're not allowed to get sick.” Mark sighed, tugging Nicky's chin up so he could look him in the eye. “But this has to stop. I know you love me, but you have to be able to function without me, at least a little bit. I can't have you falling to pieces the moment I leave the room. It's not healthy. You used to be independent, remember? You didn't want any help from anyone, and now I feel like I'm living your life for you.”

“I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm all fucked up right now. I'm sorry.” Nicky gulped back tears, his hands reaching up to card through Mark's hair. “I know I get...” He trailed off. “I used to be okay, you know? I had to do everything by myself. When I was playing football and that, I was on my own, and then when I started hustling...”

Mark had heard this story before. Nicky had been dropped from the team and been too ashamed and broke to go home, so had started selling himself to make ends meet. By the time he'd finally gotten his life back on track and been able to reconnect with his family he was getting out of the game, considering buying a brothel so other lads wouldn't have to go through the same shit he had. It could have been worse, of course, he'd been knocked around once or twice, but never genuinely attacked or raped. He'd just seen what it was like out there and wanted something better. It was gorgeously sweet and well-meant, if a bit short-sighted. But that was what Nicky did, throw himself blindly into mad things that somehow worked out.

“I'd just always been on my own.” Nicky continued. “And things had always been shit. And then you came along and everything was just... better. You make things okay. I don't know how things could be okay without you, because they never have been.”

“I didn't do much. I just spread my legs while you went off and managed to be spectacular.” Mark joked. Though it was true. It had been Shane and Nicky who had made the business what it was, not him. He just shagged. Nicky was the one behind it all, the driving force, the big heart that kept everything moving.

“I don't know that I could have done it without you, though.” Nicky said softly. “You make me want to be better than I am. Not so I can impress you or anything, just because you deserve it. I don't ever want to let you down. I let you down, though, and I don't know how to take it back.”

“You can't.” Mark kissed Nicky to take the sting out of his words. “But it's not the end of us. This thing...” He pointed between the two of them for emphasis. “This is usually pretty great. It still is, or it can be. I'm not going to drop it all over this.” He kissed Nicky again, wrapping himself around the older boy, feeling Nicky shift uncomfortably against him, sort of half-draped over his lap and twisted against the wall. “Need you to promise me something, though.”

Nicky nodded. “Anything.”

Mark edged himself out from under Nicky, heaved himself up and then helped Nicky to his feet. Pulled him into a hug, kissed his cheek. Felt Nicky push against him, warm and trembling and his.

“Stop leaving tea-bags in the sink, yeah? It's really annoying.”

 

*

 

Nicky wouldn't have said he felt good, but he felt better. There was still the guilt, the fear, orbiting around him like a thick black cloud, but in the centre of it all was Mark, laying back on the couch and holding him close, Nicky nestled on his chest, legs all tangled up together, Mark's heart beating against his cheek.

“You want any lunch before you go in to work?”

Nicky shook his head. “No, not hungry. You're not coming in today, then?”

Mark shook his head, shifting slightly under Nicky. Fingers ran through his hair, and Nicky pushed into them, the affection sorely needed after the events of the last few days. “No. I think I'm coming down with something, anyway. Been a bit sniffly, and my throats been sore. Don't want to go spreading it around.”

“Okay.” Nicky was going to mention something about Mark not feeling well, what that might mean, but didn't bother. He didn't have the energy to start panicking again. “What'll you do instead?”

“Don't know. Maybe take Saffy to the dog park. We haven't been in a while.” Nicky was sure he was about to start purring if Mark kept up stroking his hair. It was a bit nice. “I can stop in at the shops on the way back if you need anything?”

Nicky shrugged. He was sure they did, but he couldn't think of it. He never could. Then they'd get home and remember they were out of garbage bags and why hadn't they thought of it before?

“Just whatever.” He replied. “I don't want to go to work. I want to stay here.”

“You need to go in.” Mark ordered. Nicky looked up, pouting, knowing he was going to go in anyway. Mark was right, they were too dependent on each other. They needed to spend at least some time apart without him flying off the handle. It was just so hard at the moment, knowing that at any time Mark could get a call from the doctor and their whole world could be upended. That Nicky might not be with him when that happened, to share the burden of the news. It made his heart sick.

“Yeah, I know.” A kiss dropped on his pout. He deepened it automatically, felt Mark moan softly under him, his hips shifting a little bit when Nicky ground against him, just teasing. Maybe it was too much too soon, but Mark felt too good under him not to do it. Felt like something precious he'd lost and only just found. Fingers wove into his hair, another hand dropping to his lower back, skating just along the top of his trousers. “Still got an hour.” He pointed out. Mark laughed, pulling back.

“No. Not until we know for sure.”

Nicky nodded. That was perfectly sensible. Mark smiled, leaning in to kiss him again. Nicky accepted it, letting his tongue enter gently, sweep over the room of his mouth. It brushed over the ridge of his palate, tickling him and making him push down again, not able to help it when a shiver of pleasure shot through his body.

“So sexy.” He muttered. Mark groaned in response, biting at his bottom lip. A hand was pushing into his jeans, cupping his arse. Nicky whimpered, pushing back into it. “Sexiest damn thing I've ever seen.”

“God, Nicky...” Mark was whispering. Then he was turning them over, pushing Nicky into the couch, kissing him hard, hand unbuttoning Nicky's trousers. “Let me jerk you off. Fuck. Please...” His mouth was on Nicky's throat, teeth grazing at his skin. “I missed you too much. Please...” Nicky nodded, pulling him down for another hard kiss. “I'm sorry, I can't... I can't fuck you. I just need to feel you. Please. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.” Nicky murmured. His zip was down, Mark's hand pushing inside. He thought about stopping this. Couldn't do it. Mark needed him. It was intoxicating. He wanted to return the favour, knew that Mark wouldn't let him. This had to be enough. “Touch me.”

“Yes...” Mark hissed, getting into his boxers and wrapping a hand around him. That big, warm hand that always fit perfectly to the curve of Nicky's cock, that was caressing him slowly, searching out the feel of him. Nicky kissed him hard, wrapping his arm around Mark's neck to hold them closer together. “You feel so good. I want you.”

“I want you too.” Nicky groaned, thrusting up, helping Mark set a fast, desperate rhythm. “I want you in me. Want to be in you. Want to feel you.”

“I can't.” Mark was almost sobbing now. “I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be.” Nicky whispered. “Don't ever be sorry. Oh...” He trailed off into a gasp, feeling himself get close. Mark was too good at this, knew exactly where to touch him. “Right there. That feels...” He kissed Mark, sealing their mouths together until neither of them could breath anything but each other. Mark was grinding against him, deliciously hard, rutting against his thigh. “You're everything I ever wanted.”

Mark let out a soft cry, his eyes squeezing shut. Nicky held him close, felt a stubbly cheek press into his throat. He tucked Mark under his chin, holding him, wanting to take care of him. Felt Mark's hand squeeze him harder, the pressure, and then the shudder when Mark came in his pants, rubbing himself against Nicky's thigh. Nicky held him through it, stroking his hair, then jerked suddenly, when the pressure became too much, when Mark's thumb hit just the right spot, and spilled over Mark's hand, feeling an open, gasping mouth on his throat while he staggered clumsily into his own release, tears stinging his eyes.

Mark was crying.

“Baby...” Nicky soothed, holding him close. Tears wetted his neck. Mark's hand was still in his trousers, still wrapped around his softening cock. Nicky let it stay, felt Mark squeeze slightly when he ran a hand down his husband's back, feeling it shake. “It's okay.”

“It's not.” Mark choked. “What if...?”

“We'll sort it out if it happens.” Nicky promised. “You'll be okay. I love you.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” Nicky murmured. “I love you.”

 

*

 

Nicky stumbled into work twenty minutes late. He'd known he had to get up, go find a clean pair of trousers and get his arse on the road, but with Mark laying on top of him, trembling like he was about to break, it was a bit hard to move. And then when Mark had fallen asleep, his cheeks wet with tears, Nicky couldn't even think about getting up.

He'd left Mark sitting on the couch, a mug of tea on his knees and a blanket around his shoulders. Looking more or less fine again, if a bit sniffly. He was definitely coming down with something. Nicky had heard a slight hoarse rattle in his chest when Mark's breath had been speeding up right before orgasm. It wasn't huge, but it was there. Nicky didn't want to leave him. Knew he had to.

Shane was rushing around when Nicky got there. He lifted his hand in a wave while he stalked past, talking on the phone. Nicky followed him to the reception desk, wanting to see if he could help.

“Yeah, well I can schedule you for...” He was saying. He raised an eyebrow at Nicky, finished his phone call, then began to dial again, reading the number out of the ledger he was holding.

“What's up?”

“Fucking everything.” Shane growled, lifting the phone to his ear. “Liam's called in sick, it's Annie's day off, Mark's still out with his back, obviously.” He looked pointedly at the empty air beside Nicky. “You're late, and Kian was supposed to be here an hour ago. Just a minute.” He turned away, beginning to talk to the client on the phone, rescheduling one of Liam's appointments, it sounded like. He finished that call, then turned back to Nicky. “I had Rowen by himself until about an hour ago. Poor guy's been run back to back three times now. I half considered getting my own kit off and pitching in, but then there's no one to call all the clients and reschedule around this clusterfuck.” He put the phone back on the cradle. “Sure Mark can't come in?”

“Definitely sure.” Nicky frowned. “Who else we got?”

“Noah's upstairs now, and I've got Blarney coming in as soon as he can get a cab, but he's not meant to start until four so he hadn't showered or anything, so he could be a while. Got Cormac doing the night shift, but it's Cody's day off and I can't get him in or he'll be working nine days straight. Trying to get that Angus kid we hired to cover weekends, but his phone's off, so that basically leaves Blarney and Cormac for the whole night. Rowen can't stay past four because it's his little sister's piano recital or some shit. Noah said he'd stay until nine or ten, so there's a blessing.

“What about Jeremy?”

“Uncle's funeral, up in Cork.” Shane sighed, sinking down into the chair behind the reception desk. “Fucking hell.”

“Sorry.” Nicky said, feeling a bit useless. “Where's Kian then?”

“Dunno. Tried to call him, but he wasn't picking up.” Shane looked up at Nicky, his cheeks going that telltale pink they went lately whenever Kian's name came up. “Tried to call him last night too. I think he's avoiding me.”

Nicky got out his phone and flicked through his contacts. Lifted the phone to his ear when he found Kian's number, thinking maybe the call wouldn't be avoided if the caller ID didn't read Shane's name. It rang for a long time, and then went to voicemail. He tried again, to much the same result.

“It's not like him not to call in.” Shane said softly. Nicky stared at him, biting his lip. All the fluster had dropped from the room for a moment, leaving a glum sort of vacuum with Shane at the centre. “I want to go see if he's okay, but...”

Nicky sighed, crouching down in front of Shane. “Want me to call Mark? He can go check for us. Maybe he just overslept or something.”

Shane hesitated for a moment, then dropped the tiniest of nods. Nicky began to flick through his phone for Mark's number.

 

*

 

Mark had been on the way to the park with Saffy when he got the call. She was staring out the window, her tongue like a windsock, looking utterly delighted. It was glorious and silly and wonderful, especially after that morning's emotional gauntlet. He felt exhausted. Hadn't expected to fall apart like that, especially after trying to be so strong and neutral through the blowup with Nicky earlier. He'd wanted to be angrier, really, but when Nicky had come out with it, with all his sweet, idiotic reasons for doing what he'd done, Mark couldn't find it in himself to not just hold him close and let himself give in to the fact that Nicky loved him. He wasn't ready to forget what Nicky had done, and he maybe didn't understand all the reasons, but he understood that they had made sense to Nicky, at the time, and that would have to be enough to go on.

He swung the car around after he hung up the phone, giving Saffy an apologetic smile and telling her he'd take her to the park later. Kian's flat wasn't that far out of their way, and they'd have plenty of time. Nicky wouldn't be home until late, as it was, so they had the whole day.

He could hear movement inside Kian's flat, but when he knocked it went silent. He knocked again. Nothing.

“Kian? I can hear you, you know.”

There was a loud sigh.

“Fuck off.”

“You okay? You didn't come in to work.”

“Oh, didn't I? Thanks, I didn't realise.” The door opened. Kian looked dishevelled. Was wearing an old t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms. His flat looked a mess, there were clothes strewn everywhere and a couple of cardboard boxes. Mark tried to peer around him without being too obvious. “What do you want?”

“Erm... nothing, apparently.” Mark shrugged. Saffy was tugging on the lead, trying to get into the flat. Kian looked down at her, blocking her progress with his foot. “You spring cleaning or something?”

“Yeah, or something.” Kian sighed, leaning against the doorframe to block Mark's view. “I'm... I'm gonna move in with Jake.”

“Huh.” Mark breathed, surprised. That was the last thing he'd expected, especially with all the soap-opera shenanigans going on with Shane. “Do you need some help or something?” He asked, not knowing what else to say.

“Isn't your back all messed up or something?” Kian asked. Mark shrugged, tugging Saffy back a little bit while she tried to climb up Kian's leg and nose at his crotch.

“I can help you pack boxes if you like. Just can't, like, carry 'em.” God, that felt feeble. What was the fucking point lying about it? Oh right, so he wouldn't have everyone freaking out. Well, that ship had sailed. “When you going?”

“Next week, probably. Gotta go around his and make space for all my stuff, then I've gotta cancel some of the utilities and rent and that, and then...” He stepped aside, letting Mark through. Mark went, before he could change his mind. Headed to the kitchen and filled a bowl with water to keep Saffy occupied. She buried her face in it like she was going swimming. “So, yeah.”

“What about work?”

“Yeah, got a bit caught up with...” He looked around at the mess, then at Mark, then at Saffy. He collapsed heavily onto the couch, plonking down between a pile of t-shirts and a stack of books. Mark found a clear-ish place on the floor to sit, his back leant up against a stack of boxes with the word 'charity' written on them in messy black marker. “I... I don't think I'm going back in.”

“Oh.” Mark nodded, leaning back, then thought better of it when the boxes behind him wobbled a little bit. His throat caught, and he coughed, though he wasn't sure if it was because of the dust from Kian's moving or the persistent scratch that had settled into his throat. “Why not?”

Kian bit his lip. He wasn't looking at Mark all of a sudden, was staring at his hands.

“Fuck, don't...” He ran a hand over his face, hiding it for a moment, before dropping it back into his lap. “Don't freak out or tell anyone but...” His face went a little red when he exhaled slowly. “I... I slept with Shane.”

“Oh, really?” Mark tried to sound surprised, but the eye-roll he got made him pretty sure it hadn't worked.

“Nicky told you, didn't he?”

“Yeah.” Mark confessed. “Does Jake know?”

“No. Fuck. I just felt so guilty, you know? I love him and I...” He shook his head. “It was good too. It wasn't even a one-time thing. We hung out the other day. I... I made him call in sick so we could spend the day together and it was like... like being a couple or something. Hanging out, going to the shops, watching TV. Shagging. But we're not. He's my boss. I feel fucking stupid, and here I am cheating on this great guy who genuinely loves me and wants me to live with him, and I'm doing it with _Shane_ , of all people.”

“You don't like Shane?”

“I love Shane. He's my best friend. He _cares_ , you know? But he's off shagging every other slag in a two-mile radius and I've got a boyfriend. I already have that, with someone else, so why am I playing at it with my boss? I can't... I can't face him right now. I have to make this right with Jake.” He bit his lip. “I thought about it, maybe, but then at your anniversary thing... he was just all over this guy. Some guy he didn't even know. I had to leave. I felt like an idiot. He doesn't give two shits about me. And then we had the other day and it was fine. I felt like things were good, and then Nicky caught us and he just... I didn't know where to put my face. We're friends, and we shagged, and that's all it meant to him.”

“Have you asked him?” Mark asked. Saffy had finished with her water, was trotting over to snuffle in a pile of socks. Kian looked at her, so Mark pulled her close, not wanting all of Kian's stuff to be covered with dog hair.

“What's the point?” Kian sighed. “I don't love him. I love Jake. I must do, or I wouldn't be moving in with him.”

“And you're never going to tell him?” Mark couldn't do it, not to someone he loved. Couldn't cheat, build up those lies, and keep it bottled up for the rest of his life. He couldn't do it to Nicky, wouldn't dream of cheating in the first place, not unless something was deeply wrong.

“Probably not, no.” Kian bit his lip. “Can we stop talking about this? You're making sense, and I really don't need that right now.”

“Okay.” Mark began to scratch Saffy behind the ears to keep her settled. She was very pleased, twisting herself in knots to keep his fingers in the right spot, panting deliriously when he reached under to scratch her belly as well. Kian turned his head, and Mark spotted a slightly purple bruise on his jaw. “What you do there?” He asked, pointing at his own cheek for emphasis.

Kian rubbed the spot, wincing. “Dentist appointment on Wednesday. I had a bit of a cavity that needed filling. Suppose that's what happens when you spend half your life with dick in your mouth. I kept having to get it out of the way when I was sucking you off, actually.” Mark could see his tongue shifting inside his cheek while he touched the tooth with it. “It's okay now, but apparently it was a bit worse than it felt. It was pissing blood on Tuesday night, so I thought I better get checked in.”

Mark felt his heart take a hard drop onto the floor.

Oh god.

“Um... was it bleeding on Monday? When we were...”

“Dunno. Don't think so.” Kian looked at him, curious. “I didn't notice anything. Why?”

“Did you get any... Fuck.” Mark felt himself go red. “I didn't get anything in your mouth, did I?”

“A bit of juice, maybe. You leak like a sieve when you're about to go off.” Kian paused. “Why?” He asked again. “What's going on?”

“Fuck.” Mark repeated. “Kian...”

 

*

 

“Oh good, you found him.” Shane's voice was dripping sarcasm. Nicky couldn't blame him. They were both on edge, running around like mad things trying to cover all their bases and sort out the appointments. Blarney still hadn't show up, had called them to say he was stuck in traffic, but that had been twenty minutes ago.

Nicky looked up. Mark was standing in the doorway, Saffy straining at her leash, Kian behind him. Kian did not look happy, had a face like thunder. Mark looked like he was about to burst into tears.

“Hey, what's up?”

“I...” Mark looked back at Kian. The blonde had his arms crossed tightly over his chest, was pointedly not looking at anyone. “We need to have a chat.”

“Not right now.” Shane groaned, looking at the two boys in the doorway. “Seriously, I've got everyone calling in sick. Kian, if you're finally here, get upstairs. I've got someone coming in two minutes.”

“No.” Kian said quietly, glancing at Mark. Mark stepped in front of him, looked like he was shielding him. Nicky watched, confused. Caught Mark's eye.

“Shane... office. Now.” He said, reaching out to hold Shane's shoulder. Shane looked like he was about to complain, but then he shook Nicky's hand off and started heading for the office.

“Two minutes.” He called over his shoulder. Nicky followed, hearing Mark fall into step behind him.

Shane was already collapsing into a chair. Kian slid in, leaning against the wall as far away from Shane as he could get. Saffy wandered over to sniff under the desk. Nicky pulled Mark into a hug. They both hopped up onto the desk, sitting side-by-side.

There was a knock on the door. Shane rolled his eyes, stood back up and went out to reception to check the client in, his face dark.

“What's going on?” Nicky whispered. Mark shook his head. He looked up at Kian, who was avoiding everyone's eyes, staring at his feet. “Babe?”

“Kian...” Mark bit his lip. “Shit. We might have a problem. You know how Kian went to the dentist the other day?” Nicky shrugged. He sort of recalled something, but had to admit he hadn't been thinking of much else but Mark this week. “Yeah, well... he might have been bleeding a bit. When he was giving me head. The other day.”

“Oh.” Nicky hissed in a breath, looking at Kian. “Fuck. Oh fuck.”

“That's what I said.” Kian whispered. “What the fuck, guys?”

“Shit, Ki.” Nicky bit his lip. “Look, it probably isn't anything. The doctor said it's probably just a mistake. And even if...” He trailed off. “He didn't like, come in your mouth or anything, so it's probably not...”

“Probably? Yeah, okay. Thanks.” Kian's voice was suddenly more of a growl than a whisper. “I had sex with Shane, you know. He sucked me off. I sucked him off. I kissed him. I fucked him. I let him fuck me. Then you know what I did?” He turned around, laid a fist into the wall. Nicky jumped. Kian turned back, shaking his knuckles. “I went to Jake's. Because I felt fucking guilty and I'd decided to move in with him. To put an end to all this... crap. And we had awesome celebratory makeup sex. Like, a whole fucking lot of it, in just about every fucking hole both of us had. And now...” He gulped. “Fuck you guys. Seriously. Go fuck yourselves. You don't...” He gulped, swallowing back angry tears.

“Kian...”

“So now I'm here. I was busy at home, packing up my shit, getting ready to quit. And you lot had to drag me back into your crap. I have to tell Jake now, you know? I have to go get tested, and I have to tell him that he's got to get tested too, when he's the one who hasn't done anything wrong.”

“We'll know soon.” Mark interrupted. “By Sunday. We'll...”

“Great. Thanks a lot. I feel much better.” Kian sank down to sit in the corner. Shane came back in, looked at the three of them in confusion.

“Right, what's going on?”

 

*

 

Shane and Kian went to the doctor. Shane had taken the news better than Kian, had just sort of slumped into his chair in defeat while he'd looked between the three of them like they had extra heads. He kept biting his lip. Nicky got them an appointment while Mark went over to man reception in their absence. They left together in Shane's car, refusing to catch each other's gaze.

The others wanted to know where Shane had gone. Nicky told them there was a family emergency, which at least seem to derail all of them from asking any other questions. They asked Mark how his back was, he said it would be okay in a couple of days. He tied up Saffy in the yard, with plenty of rope to run on, giving her a bowl of water and a bit of chicken out of the fridge to keep her busy.

Two hours later, Shane came back. Kian didn't.

Mark took him in a cup of coffee. Nicky was busy in the main room, trying to organise a line-up. It was a bit pointless, considering they only had two guys to choose from. When he went in, Shane was slumped behind his desk, staring at his own reflection in the polished wood.

“Hey.” Mark said softly. Shane jumped, startled, then looked up, his eyes thick with unshed tears.

“Oh. Hey.” He sat back, swallowing. “Sorry.”

“How'd it go?”

Shane pointed at the bandaid on his arm. Mark nodded. He wanted to sit down in Nicky's desk chair, but didn't know if he was welcome.

“Where's Kian?”

“Got a cab home.” Shane's voice was short. “He hates me.”

“He doesn't.” He sat down after all, keeping an ear out for the door in case someone came in. “He's just upset.”

“He's right to be. God, I'm an idiot. He's moving in with Jake now, you know? One day with me, and he's willing to jump straight into living with someone else. Shows how much I meant."

Mark pulled the chair closer, listened to the screeching rumble of the wheels over the carpet. God, Nicky needed a new chair. The underneath was all frayed as well.

“Did it mean something to you?”

“I don't know. I didn't think so. I tried to...” Shane sighed, resting his chin in his hand. “I tried to distract myself, you know? I did the shag around. Picked up some bloke at your party. Don't even know who he was. I just wanted to prove that...”

“Did you tell him?” Mark asked. “That he meant something?”

Shane shook his head. “I couldn't. He loves Jake. I couldn't do that to him, be an inconvenience like that. What was he going to do? Leave Jake for me? He's not doing that, and then I've just made things awkward between us. And then if he does and it doesn't work out, he's sacrificed all that because... because I... like him. God, I'm an idiot.” He said again. “Anyway.” He looked up at Mark, his eyes cloudy. “How are you? Like, obviously your back's fine after all. So thanks for telling me the truth and that.”

“I'm sorry, Shay.” Mark pursed his lips, not knowing how to make this okay without having his medical results right there in his hand. Not that that would necessarily make it okay, if the outcome wasn't good. “We got freaked out and we didn't want to worry everyone if it turned out everything was okay. We're sure it's going to be okay. More or less. We didn't think...”

“No, you didn't.” Shane scowled, pushing himself out of his chair. “You two never do. It's all about you, isn't it? You've got your own little bubble and nobody else matters. You've got your own drama, and everyone has to drop everything and get involved, even when we didn't ask to.”

“That's not fair...”

“No, it's not.” Shane's face was red, his eyes dark. Mark wasn't sure what to do. “It's not fair on any of us. But you know what? You two have each other. Who've I got?”

“You've got us.” Mark said, feeling lame even as it came out of his mouth. That wasn't what Shane meant, and both of them knew it. “You can always come talk to me, or Nicky.”

“It's not...” He slumped back into the chair, looking up at Mark. “Just... can you leave me alone for a bit? I'm sorry. I really don't want to look at either of you right now.”

“Yeah, okay.” He considered hugging Shane, then thought better of it. The doorbell was ringing, anyway.

He left the room and closed the door behind himself.

 

*

 

It was almost midnight by the time Nicky left work. Mark had gone around nine that night to get Saffy home. She wasn't loving being tied up in the yard, and the constant whining was starting to float up to the bedrooms and put the boys off. He'd been sneezing a lot anyway, was worried about infecting the other guys, especially if they were going to be short-staffed and Kian's position wasn't certain.

There had been a rush at the end of the night and no-one to offer, so he'd ended up with a few clients sitting in the main room waiting for a shag while Cormac and Blarney had run back-to-back. Nicky had given them double pay for the bother, promising them both paid days off the following week. Blarney had been a bit stroppy about it, and even Cormac was starting to lag by the end. Nicky had had to turn people away. He felt awful.

Shane had left early. He'd stayed for a bit when he'd gotten back from the doctor, but had walked out an hour later, slamming the door and not saying goodbye. Nicky didn't bother to stop him. He couldn't blame him for leaving. He just hoped Shane would be back in the next day to cover his and Mark's day off.

When he got back home, Mark had a fire roaring and was snuggled up in a blanket. Nicky sat down beside him, pulling him into a hug.

“How you feeling?”

“Snotty.” Mark pulled a face, wiping his nose on tissue that looked disgustingly well-used. “Kind of hoping I am properly sick, though. Doctor said that's why my results could be all screwed up, so maybe this is a good sign.”

“I hope so.” Nicky said, snuggling into his shoulder. “Is it wrong that I really hope you have the flu?”

“No, then you can take care of me.” Mark pulled the blanket around both of them, tucking them together. “Want to go to bed? You look tired.” Nicky turned to kiss him, not caring that Mark had to break to breathe, his nose too clogged up to get any air. He coughed, shaking under Nicky. Nicky smiled, snuggling into him.

“No. Let's just stay here for a bit.”


	7. Saturday

When Mark woke up it was pitch black. He panicked for a minute, not sure where he was, then realised he was on the couch still, Nicky asleep on his chest, Saffy asleep on his feet, the fire burnt down to a few sputtering embers that were barely perceptible in the dark. He started to cough, and had to sit up, dislodging Nicky.

His partner grumbled awake, gasped for a moment in confusion, then sighed when Mark reached out to hold his hand, still shaking with hacking coughs. He felt wretched. The room was filled with a sudden soft light, and he looked over to see Nicky pulling his hand away from the side-table lamp, its orange glow spilling shadows over his face.

“Okay?”

Mark nodded, feeling revolting when he hocked up a big glob of mucus and spit it into a tissue he'd managed to grope up off the floor. Nicky wrinkled his nose, sticking his tongue out in disgust.

“Gross.”

“Thanks.” Mark retorted, wiping his mouth. His throat felt a little bit clearer at least. “Let's go to bed. I feel like shit.”

He was in his own bed a few minutes later, Nicky wrapped around his back. Mark was usually the big spoon, but he had a feeling Nicky was tactfully avoiding having Mark cough on the back of his head. Mark couldn't blame him.

He went back to sleep, feeling even breaths push against his back.

 

*

 

“I spy with my little eye...” Nicky pursed his lips, looking around himself. Saffy was running happily around the fenced area of the dog park, pestering a labrador that looked like he had better things to do. “Something beginning with D.”

“Dog?”

“Nope.” Nicky shook his head.

“Dalmatian?”

“Where?”

“Dunno.” Mark shrugged. “It's a kind of dog, so I figured there was a chance.”

“Oh. No.”

“Okay.” Mark looked around. He was well rugged up for such a warm day. Despite saying he felt a little bit better this morning he was still wheezing pretty badly. He'd wanted to come to the park though, especially as Saffy had had to miss out the day before. Nicky reached out to stroke his hair when Mark turned his head away, feeling slightly sweaty strands slide through his fingers. He'd have to take Mark home soon, he didn't want him getting more sick, especially now.

Mark pushed back into the touch, turning to smile at Nicky.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Nicky replied, the game forgotten. “You sure you should be out? You look really pale.”

“Yeah, I'm okay.” Mark leaned his head on Nicky's shoulder, tipping almost sideways with their height difference. “Give her another five minutes and we'll probably be kicked out, anyway.” He was right. The cocker spaniel she'd fixed her sights on did not look pleased. “Then we can sleep for the rest of the day. Dirt.”

“What? Oh.” Nicky laughed, remembering that they'd been playing a game. “No.”

“Dad?” He pointed over at a family at the playground who were trying to convince their toddler to go down the slide, to much resistance. “Dress?”

“No. And no.” Nicky stood up, heading over to collect Saffy. She bounced over the moment he opened the gate, looking impressed at everything. There was dirt all over her face. He clipped the leash on and headed back toward the car, linking his hand with Mark's when they fell into step.

“Dickhead?”

“No.”

“I give up.”

“Door.” Nicky answered triumphantly, pointing at their own car. Mark rolled his eyes, sliding into the car.

“That's not fair.”

“It is.” Nicky argued. “That's a door right there, and it starts with D. I spied it.”

“You did very well.” Mark sighed. “Thinking outside the box.” He leaned against the door, resting his face in his hand. Nicky reached over to pat his knee, pulling it away when Mark began to cough.

“I'm taking you home.”

“Yeah.” Mark was almost asleep against the window, his face slackening when he stopped coughing. His eyes were red and tired. Nicky wanted to reach over and hold him until he was well again. “Thanks, babe.”

 

*

 

Mark fell asleep on the couch. When he woke, he could barely move. He felt exhausted and his joints were killing him. He tried to sit up, but failed miserably, even when he started to cough.

“Hey, you okay?” Nicky leaned over the back of the couch. He had a wooden spoon in his hand, and Mark stared for a second, trying to make sense of it. “I'm making soup.” Nicky explained, looking at the utensil in his hand, which was beginning to drip. He sucked it into his mouth for a moment, licking it off. “Chicken noodle okay? I can put a bunch of garlic in.”

“Not hungry.” Mark shook his head, rolling painfully onto his side to relieve the pressure on his sinuses. Nicky came around the couch and crouched down, the spoon hanging between his knees. “Don't feel well.”

“Oh, baby...” Nicky bit his lip, reaching out to touch his forehead. “You feel a bit warm. I'll make you a cold drink if you like? Get you some flu tablets?”

Mark nodded, smiling gratefully when Nicky came back a minute later with a big glass of lemonade, filled to the brim with ice-cubes.

“Thanks.” He rasped, barely hearing his own voice. “Fuck, I feel awful.” He let Nicky help him up and took a sip of the lemonade, wincing as it stung his throat, then popped the tablets Nicky handed him into his mouth, tasted them bitter on his tongue before he washed them down.. “Probably shouldn't have gone out this morning.”

“Probably not.” Nicky murmured. He was worried, Mark could see it there on his face. He didn't want to make a fuss, though. It was probably just a bad cold, brought on by stress and exhaustion. It wasn't...

No. There was no point thinking like that.

Nicky was, though, he could see it in his knitted eyebrows, concerned eyes. The way he sat down next to Mark and tugged him into a hug, stroking his back. He had to pull back when Mark began to cough again, throwing in a sneeze for good measure. The spasms were making his chest hurt, making his back twinge painfully. He sneezed again, wiping his arm on his sleeve.

“I'm okay.” He said, to a question that hadn't been asked in so many words. Felt Nicky relax a little bit anyway. “It's just a cold or something.” He felt something lodge in his throat and coughed hard, feeling his lungs rattle around it. “Shouldn't have sat in the rain the other day. You were right. Stupid idea.”

“You're not Spider-man?” Nicky joked. Mark shook his head.

“Apparently not.” He yawned. “I'm going upstairs to bed. I feel wrecked.”

Nicky wanted to help him up the stairs to bed, but he declined it, not wanting Nicky to think he was weaker than he was. It was a hard slog though, and by the time he made it everything hurt. He did let Nicky tuck him in, though, and kiss him on the cheek. By the time Nicky left the room, his eyes were already closed and he could feel himself drifting into sleep.

 

*

 

Nicky finished making the soup, ladled out a small bowl for himself, then put the rest in the fridge for when Mark was feeling hungry. He plonked down on the sofa, leaning back to watch some television. He thought about calling in to check that things were okay at work, but nobody had called him in a panic and he wasn't sure Shane would want to talk to him if he did. Thought about calling to check on Kian and realised that would be even less welcome.

He went upstairs instead and lay down next to Mark, just wanting the closeness. He knew he was probably going to get sick as well, and realised this wasn't exactly a good start on the whole 'taking care of himself so he could take care of Mark' thing. He tried not to think about it, though, was more caught up in watching Mark's eyes close tighter for a minute while his hands clenched into the sheets, his breath sounding like a struggle. Nicky reached up a hand to soothe him, stroking a hand down his ribs. Mark moaned in his sleep, turning onto his back, and began to cough. He opened his eyes for a second, lifted a hand to his mouth, then rolled back onto his side to face Nicky, closing his eyes again.

Nicky stroked hair back from his face.

“Gorgeous boy. I love you.”

Mark started to smile, but it slackened after a moment when he fell abruptly back to sleep.

Nicky settled in next to him, just watching.

Making sure.

 

*

 

When Nicky woke up after an unintended nap, Mark was still lying next to him in the same position, his mouth wide open. He reached out a hand to caress one cheek, feeling how clammy it was. His face was still, hands slack on the bed.

Nicky reached out to touch his cheek.

Then he realised.

Mark was way too still.

“Shit.” He brought his hand to his mouth, feeling frightened tears prick his eyes. He almost didn't want to touch Mark again. Because of course he was breathing, wasn't he? He stared at Mark's chest, but he was laying on his side and Nicky couldn't tell if it was moving or not, not enveloped in the blankets as he was. “Shit.” He said again, reaching out to put a shaking hand on Mark's chest. Couldn't feel his heart beating.

Put a hand on his shoulder, shook him a little bit.

Mark didn't move.

“Mark?” He whispered, shaking a little harder, feeling his heart lurch. “Marky?” He shook harder, feeling Mark rock loosely under his hand, not respond. “Marky?” He said. Loud enough that Mark could hear. Should hear. He sat up, grabbing both shoulders and yanking Mark up into a sitting position against him.

“Jesus, what?” Mark grumbled against his ear. Nicky burst into tears. He couldn't help it. “What's wrong? I was sleeping.” Nicky pulled back to look into confused, irritated blue eyes, needing to see that it was real. Mark wiped his snotty nose, wheezing out an adorably tiny cough. He glanced at Nicky, must have seen the tears. “What's wrong? Did the doctor call? Am I...?”

“No. God.” Nicky pulled him, hugging him tight. Mark stiffened against him, then relaxed, his hands coming up to stroke Nicky's back. “Sorry. I just...” He didn't know how to explain it without it seeming ridiculous. “I panicked a bit. I'm sorry.”

“About what?” Mark mumbled. His eyes were already closed on Nicky's shoulder. Nicky held him, rocking him gently back and forth, feeling how warm he was beneath his pyjamas, how clammy and damp his cheek was against Nicky's neck.

“Nothing. I just love you.”

“Love you too.” Mark breathed, almost out again. “But can I go back to sleep now?”

“Yeah, of course.” They lay back down, hands linked between them while Nicky watched him slide back into sleep. He reached out, stroking his hand down over Mark's hip. He felt fucking ridiculous now, but his heart was still hammering against his ribs as it climbed back down from his throat. He watched Mark breathe, able to see it now, hear it in the soft, wet snores starting to rattle from the back of his throat.

Fuck.

 

*

 

When Mark woke up he felt even worse. The blankets were tangled around him, and it was too hard to kick them off. He was soaked in sweat, felt cold and hot at the same time. He groaned softly, then stopped when he felt his throat protest. Wanted to cough, but didn't have the energy. He reached over to take Nicky's hand, felt his fingers get enveloped by a soft, dry grip that squeezed gently, Nicky's other hand coming up to touch his cheek gently.

“Hey, how you feel?”

“Awful.” Mark whispered. It hurt to much to do more. “Blankets are too hot. Can you get them off me please?”

“You can't do it yourself?” Nicky asked, sounding concerned.

“Too hard.” Kicking feebly at the blankets didn't achieve much, so Mark turned the puppy-dog eyes on, laughing internally when Nicky gave him a fond smile and sat up to pull the blankets away. “Do we have any drugs?”

“I've got some more cold and flu. You're not due for...” He checked his watch. “Another half hour, but I suppose it can't hurt.” He got up. Mark heard his feet disappear down the stairs. He tried to pull himself up into a sitting position, but only managed to get halfway. Everything hurt. Nicky came back a moment later with some tablets and a glass of water, which Mark gratefully washed down, and a jar of vaporub. His shirt was unbuttoned, and he sighed in relief as thick-smelling ointment was rubbed into his chest, burning his nostrils when he tried to inhale.

“Thanks.”

“Not at all.” A hand pressed to his forehead. “You're very warm. You want anything?”

“No. I'm okay.” The fumes from the menthol were starting to make him a little lightheaded. He felt his stomach rise, but swallowed it down, not wanting to lose the pills before they'd had a chance to do anything. “Think I'm going to be sick.” He admitted, when he felt his stomach leap again. “Can you get me a bucket or something?” He put his hand over his mouth, feeling it start already. Nicky was getting up, but it was too late. He felt himself retch, and then he was covered in his own vomit, gasping when the second wave hit him and he did it again.

He collapsed back when it was done. Nicky was standing by the bed, his hand over his mouth. Out of concern or to stop the smell, Mark wasn't sure.

He was really glad he hadn't tried to eat that soup.

“I'm calling the hospital.”

“No...” Mark protested weakly. Nicky was pulling back the sheets, rolling Mark over to get him out of the spreading puddle. His pyjamas were being tugged awkwardly off. By the time Nicky was wiping him down with a cold wet cloth, there was already a phone to his ear calling for an ambulance.

“Mark, look at me.” Nicky demanded. Mark looked up, watching Nicky blur out when he tried to focus. “Come on, babe.”

“I'm fine Nix, don't...” He burped, then felt his stomach lurch again, turning over so he could at least miss the bed this time. He sort of managed it. Most of it went on the floor. “I don't feel well.” He admitted. Nicky was hanging up the phone, bending down next to him with a bucket. There wasn't much point now. He felt empty. He sort of needed the bathroom. He told Nicky. Nicky helped him up, but he only barely made it to the toilet. His stomach hurt really badly.

“Oh, love.” Nicky whispered, stroking his hair. Mark was profoundly embarrassed, but Nicky didn't seem to mind. Just stood beside the toilet and rubbed his back, saying generally soothing things. Saffy trotted into the bedroom, Mark could see her through the open bathroom door. She inspected the vomit, then turned her nose up and walked away.

Mark laughed, despite himself. Nicky giggled too, bending down to kiss his cheek.

“I've got you.” He murmured. Mark nodded, leaning into his chest.

 

*

 

The ambulance guys were nice enough. They took care of things, and one of them even helped Nicky clean up while the others got Mark sorted out. There was a drip in him, getting him rehydrated. Nicky didn't know how to help, so he stripped the bed properly, then got all the sheets and Mark's pyjamas in the washing machine before they started to smell. Mopped up the floor, thanking god they had boards in the bedroom instead of carpet. Put Saffy outside with a heaped bowl of food in case they weren't able to get back that night, making sure her kennel had a warm blanket in case it rained and that she had plenty of water. By the time he got in the back of the ambulance he felt pretty satisfied that everything was sorted, even though his hands were shaking badly.

Then Mark smiled at him, his lips red in a pale, damp face, and everything was okay.

The room they ended up in had the most pastel per square foot that Nicky had ever seen. Even the nurses' uniforms were pastel. Or off-white. He hated it on sight, though he supposed that was more to do with the fact that Mark was lain on the bed with a drip in his arm, his chest making frightening rattling sounds.

Nicky checked his watch. It was three-thirty in the afternoon. He settled into the chair next to Mark, reaching out to take the hand that didn't have a needle in the back of it.

“Sorry.” His husband's voice was muddled. He was on a lot of drugs to keep the vomiting and diarrhoea at bay, something for his congestion and to keep his temperature down too. “Bit of an inconv... conve...” He sounded like he was struggling to make the words. Nicky stroked his hand, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Not an inconvenience.” Nicky assured him. “The doctor says it's just a bad flu, yeah?” They'd spoken briefly when Mark had been checked in. They'd poked him and taken his temperature and that, and now they were taking care of him. “We'll get you some rest and you'll be right as rain.”

“Yeah.” Mark mumbled. His head rolled to the side to look at Nicky. Their eyes met, Mark's unfocused. “Is this what it's going to be like all the time? If I'm sick?” Nicky shrugged, wiping a feverish face with a damp cloth that the nurse had provided.

“No. You'll be okay most of the time. We just have to make sure you're straight at the doctor for a the littlest thing. Like, if you sneeze, I'm calling an ambulance.” Nicky smiled thinly, knowing it was probably true. He would. If a glass of water went down the wrong way, he'd be giving Mark CPR before he could stop coughing. “But you'll be fine.”

“I will.” Mark pursed his lips. “I'll be fine.”

“Of course you will. You've got me.”

“I do.” Mark yawned, his eyes falling shut. “Going to sleep now.”

“Okay.” Nicky wanted to climb into the bed and hold him, but there wasn't room, so he just sat still, holding his hand tight and listening to Mark breathe.

 

*

 

When Mark woke up, Nicky was sitting beside him reading a magazine and twisting his wedding ring around his finger, lips pursed in concentration. He felt a bit woozy, but his stomach was more settled despite the persistent antiseptic smell in the room. He shifted a little to get comfortable, smiling when Nicky looked up.

“Good morning.” Nicky murmured. Mark glanced out the window. The sun was going down, but he supposed it made as much sense as any of this did. “You back with us?”

“Yeah. Sort of.” Mark winced, tasting the vomit in the back of his throat. “Water?”

He pulled himself into a sitting position while Nicky bustled about with a silver jug, then came back with a full glass, helping him tilt it to his lips. He didn't know that he needed the help, but he appreciated the thought. He swallowed twice, then motioned it away, pressing into the kiss that dropped to his hair.

“The doctor's been in to look at you.” The back of Mark's hand itched, but when he went to scratch it he realised there was a needle stuck in it, feeding clear fluid from a tube. He touched it lightly, just testing. “Don't mess with that.” Nicky admonished, touching his knee. “Eejit.” Mark shrugged an apology, wiping his runny nose with the back of his other hand. “You've got the flu. Do you remember me telling you?”  
  
“Sort of.” Mark said, his voice a bit less raspy now that he'd had some water. It still hurt to talk, though he was sure Nicky would be happy to do all his talking for him. For everyone else, for that matter, knowing Nicky. “I threw up.”

“Yeah, you did.” Nicky said, taking his hand. “It was really gross. I was impressed. Full Exorcist. It was like some sort of special effect.” Mark snorted a laugh, reaching out for the glass again. His mouth felt disgusting. “Don't worry about Saffy, too. She's got plenty of food and water and I've put her outside. I called Shane. He'll go round tonight to check on her.”

God, Saffy, he hadn't even thought. He was almost surprised for a minute. This wasn't his addled, over-emotional Nicky at all, dissolving into tears and falling to pieces. This was the old Nicky, the take-charge one that got things sorted out and made sure everything was okay. This was the Nicky who was smiling at him, looking a bit teary, but still holding his hand and making sure he had everything he needed without turning into a whimpering, begging wreck on the floor, pestering him like he was about to burst into flames. He felt a sudden rush of love, and squeezed Nicky's hand in response, totally overwhelmed and about to cry himself.

“You want anything? I can get a nurse. They said they'd been in to check you in about an hour, anyway.”

“No, I'm okay.” He swallowed, resisting the urge to scratch the tube in his hand. “Is Shane okay?”

“He's fine. A bit pissed off, but he'll be okay. Haven't heard from Kian, though. Didn't really expect to. Not until we get your results. And even then...” Nicky sighed. “Sorry. I know it sounds awful, but he's not really my focus right now. Not until we get you fixed up.”

Mark nodded. He was worried about Kian, but there wasn't much point arguing. He sort of needed the bathroom, anyway, so he had other priorities. He let Nicky know. Nicky smiled, helping him out bed and over to the tiny bathroom, guiding the IV stand as they went. Turned politely away while he used the bathroom, even though Mark knew he'd seen him go earlier, when he'd been out of sorts, then helped him back to bed. Then he got a footrub, which was nice, making him laugh when Nicky kissed all his toes, an adoring smirk on his face.

The nurse came in. Poked him for a bit, took his temperature, made a couple of notes, then left without saying much except that he seemed to be doing fine.

He lay back down, feeling sleep start to itch at him.

Nicky kissed his forehead. He fell asleep to fingers running through his hair.

 

*

 

Nicky waited until Mark was well and truly asleep before he got up. He considered leaving a note in case Mark woke up alone, but decided that was far too ridiculous and overprotective and Mark wouldn't thank him for it. He'd be gone maybe five minutes anyway, just had to get outside for a bit and turn his phone on to check his messages, head up to the bathroom and have a bit of a clean-up himself. Shane was going to drop in after work to grab their house-keys, bring him a change of clothes from the gym-bag Nicky kept at the office just in case he ever actually went to the gym. Nicky was grateful. He really hadn't expected Shane to be so willing to help, not after the debacle yesterday, but Shane had sounded genuinely concerned on the phone and Nicky respected him for it.

He considered calling Mark's parents, and then decided against it. This was just a bad virus, not anything to be frightened about, and Mark wouldn't thank Nicky if they came barrelling down from Sligo to fuss over him while he was feeling unwell. Anyway, they'd know today or tomorrow what the test results were, and Nicky didn't need to make two awkward phone-calls about Mark's health within hours of each other.

He found a quiet spot where he could light up a cigarette and turn his phone on. There were a few messages, nothing big, including one from a number he didn't recognise. A telemarketer or someone, probably. He'd been getting bloody calls for months, asking if he wanted to change his internet provider. It was painful in the extreme, and he'd stopped being polite around the third call. There was a call from his mam, who he quickly texted back to say he was busy and he'd call her tomorrow, then a couple from Shane, who he called back.

Shane was fine, just wanted to know what room to come to when he got there. By the time he ended the call there was a text from his mam saying no problem and that she loved him. He texted back that he loved her too, stubbed out the cigarette, then headed back inside.

Mark was awake, stirring a plate of vegetables around with a plastic fork. He smiled when Nicky came back in, accepting a kiss on the cheek.

“How is it?”

“Don't know. Too scared to find out.” He poked something green and round. “What do you think that is?”

“A pea?” Nicky asked. He tilted his head, getting a look. “A really tiny brussel sprout?” Mark speared it and popped it into his mouth, chewing suspiciously. “What's it taste like?”

“Green.” Mark said, stabbing up a couple more. “You want some? It's delicious.”

“You're a terrible liar.”

“I'm an amazing liar. You just don't know because you don't realise I'm lying all the time.”

“Lying about what?” Nicky demanded. “Come on, tell me one lie you've told in the last week.”

“Um...” Mark swallowed, pulling a face when he did. He stared down at his meal in askance, then started to poke at something that was probably fish. Or chicken. Maybe. “I told that client that he had a huge penis. He didn't. It was just sort of average.”

“That doesn't count. That's business lies.” Nicky laughed. “I pay you to tell those lies. What lies have you told me?”

“I could lie to you if I wanted.”

“Off you go then.” Nicky challenged. “Tell me a lie. And make it a good one.”

“Okay.” Mark thought for a second, putting down his fork and shoving the plate away. “I'll do you one better. I'll tell you two things that are true, and the other one's a lie. You have to guess which. Ready?” He reached out to take Nicky's hand, and Nicky leant in as though they were sharing a secret. “Number one: I'm really terrified about the test results.”

“Okay.” Nicky nodded. That one was probably true. He was petrified himself. It would be mad not to be. “Number two?”

“Number two: I have never, not for one single second, regretted marrying you.”

Nicky nodded, not sure how to feel. If it was the truth, it was wonderful. If it was the lie, it cut him to the bone. But he wouldn't be surprised, either, if for a moment Mark had regretted it. After what had happened the other day...

“Number three?”

“Three: I don't forgive you. For the other day.” He kissed Nicky's cheek. “Do you believe me?”

“Should I?” Nicky's heart was beating too fast. The hand in his squeezed, and his cheek was kissed again. Mark pulled back, looking at him with nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

“Of course not. One of them's a lie.” Nicky climbed up to sit on the edge of the bed, needing to connect to him. They kissed, Mark deepening it for a moment before pulling back to get his breath. Nicky stroked his hair, remembering that Mark was still sick, able to read it in the dark, heavy circles under his eyes.

“Are you really scared?” Nicky asked, needing to know. Mark nodded.

“I'm really scared.” He confirmed. “I know I've got you, and that makes it better, but I'm freaking out. That one's the truth.”

“I've never regretted marrying you.” Nicky said quietly, needing Mark to know before they teased this one out. No matter what Mark was about to say, Nicky could never regret this. Having Mark, getting to keep him as much as he did. Being kept by Mark.

“No, me either.” He was tugged to lay down on Mark's chest, distributing his weight carefully so he wouldn't crush his lungs. His heart was beating in his mouth. Lips dropped to his hair, hands stroking soothingly up his back. “Guess that means I forgive you, huh?”

“Guess so.” Nicky agreed, feeling the heart in his mouth get wedged there by the sudden lump in his throat. “You don't have to.”

“I want to.” Fingers tickled his arms, soothing on his skin. “I trust you. I do. I was angry, but now...” He shrugged, body rolling under Nicky's. “It doesn't matter. Not really. Don't do it again and we'll be fine.”

“I won't. I wouldn't.”

“I know.” Mark was yawning. Nicky sat up, feeling him start to struggle under the weight on his chest. “I trust you, and that's sort of the point. It's not important any more.” He sat up a little bit, reaching for the remote. “Now stop looking at me like I've got an extra head and let's see if this television has more than two channels, yeah?”

 

*

 

Nicky went to sleep in the chair beside him, so Mark dimmed the lights and kept watching TV. He wasn't really tired, though he sort of felt dozy from all the drugs. Not in a sleepy way, just in the way where he'd sort of space out, forget where he was, then realise he'd missed two ad breaks and a whole chunk of the story.

A nurse came in to let them know Shane was here. Nicky woke up, went out, and when he came back it was minus his spare key and with a pair of clean tracksuit pants and a t-shirt, his uncomfortable jeans shoved under the chair. He fell back to sleep a moment later, chin rested on his chest and arms draped over the side of the chair, hands dangling uselessly in the air.

Mark sort of watched a couple of late-night comedy shows, wishing he had his laptop or something to play on. Nicky hadn't brought his phone, which he couldn't have turned on anyway, but it would have been nice to have a bit of music to listen to or something.

So he turned on his side and watched Nicky sleep instead.

It was boring, and more creepy than romantic. But it was quite nice, especially when Nicky jolted upright in his chair for a second, blurted something about the man with the guitar in his nose not having a hat, then sank slowly back down to slouch in the chair again, his eyes still closed.

Mark sniggered to himself, sliding a hand through one of Nicky's and closing his eyes.


	8. Sunday Again

The doctor came in early, far earlier than Mark would have liked considering it was the first real sleep he'd gotten, but everything seemed fine and she told them he could go home that afternoon as long as Nicky would take care of him, keep his fluids up and all that. The IV came out of his hand, which he was grateful for, because it itched like crazy. Now it still itched, but at least he could sort of awkwardly rub it to make it a bit more comfortable, even if he couldn't really get his fingernails in there in case he started bleeding everywhere.

Nicky got up to tidy himself, then came back looking a bit more fresh and upbeat. Mark pulled him into his lap, laughing when Nicky kissed his nose, giving him a cheeky squeeze that made him push up in invitation. It wasn't like they were going to be doing anything in a hospital bed, but it was still nice to have the familiarity.

His chest was still heavy, but the cough was starting ease up a bit, and he'd only thrown up once during the night when he'd woken up, not known where he was, and somehow managed to get it all in the tray at the side of his bed when he'd heaved awkwardly and thrown up something that had maybe once been peas. He felt alright now, although his nose was getting a bit red and raw from all the wiping and blowing.

It was pushing lunchtime, and he was looking well forward to another round of 'guess the vegetable' when Kian came to visit.

He was drunk, though Mark didn't realise it himself until Kian sat down next to the bed and he understood why Nicky had made a face when he'd hugged Kian. Mark didn't know how he'd gotten in, really. He smelled of spirits and smoke, like he'd just crawled out of a club after a big night. It was a persistent drunk, this, not a blinding, spinning, vomiting drunk, just a general personal agreement not to be sober for any length of time. He was level enough, but he was blinking a bit slower than normal, looked like his face wasn't all moving at the same time.

“Hey, Ki.” Mark said tentatively. “How're ye?”  
  
“Yeah, m'good.” Kian looked up at him with red, wet eyes. Nicky leant against the bed, arse by Mark's knees, while Kian slumped into the chair. “You alright? Shane called me. I... I got his voicemail. Got it this morning. Thought I'd come... check.” His eyes filled with tears. “You're okay, right?”

“I'm fine. Just a flu.” He reached out to take Kian's hand, felt it dangle in his grasp before it tightened properly, squeezing him a little harder than necessary. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Dunno. Went out last night.” Kian took a deep breath, then exhaled, shivering slightly. A tear tumbled down his face. “Jake kicked me out.”  
  
“Shit, I'm sorry.” Nicky whispered. Kian buried his face in his hands, shaking. Nicky pushed off the bed and sat down on the arm of the chair, wrapping his arms around Kian's shoulders. Kian turned into it, crying bitterly into Nicky's chest. “Oh, lad...” He kissed Kian's hair. “It's okay.” He murmured, stroking his back. Mark wanted to get out of bed, help hug Kian too, but he wasn't quite strong enough for that yet. He reached out anyway, just able to touch Kian's knee if he stretched.

“What happened?” Mark asked.

“Told him.” Kian sobbed. “Told him about... Fuck. He freaked out about the thing, you know, with you lot. Said he knew it would happen one day and why should he have to deal with me being a... a...” Kian gulped wetly, scrubbing at his face. “Because it's my fault if he's sick because...” He shook his head. “I wanted to hurt him. I did. I just told him. Told him about Shane. I didn't mean to say it. I wasn't gonna... guh...” He broke off, sucking in a breath that sounded like it was mostly snot. “Oh god, I'm so sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“We're fine.” Nicky breathed, rocking him a little bit. “Hey...” He kissed Kian's hair again. Mark watched Kian slump against him, shaking hard while Nicky soothed him. “Don't worry about us. Just worry about yourself.”

“He said you were in the hospital. I thought...”  
  
“It's fine.” He was starting to calm down now. He stopped shaking soon enough and pushed out of Nicky's arms, reaching over to snag a tissue from the side of Mark's bed. He was red now, though whether it was the alcohol, crying, or embarrassment Mark couldn't tell. Probably a combination of all three. “You want me to call someone to come get you?” Kian shook his head.

“No. No, I'll get a taxi. Don't really have anyone, anyway. Not now...”

“What about Shane?”  
  
“No. Hates me.” Kian dragged an arm across his face with a squelch. “I don't want to see him.”

“Well, just stay here for a bit, yeah?” Mark suggested quietly. He looked up, tried to give Nicky a meaningful eyebrow. Hoped he understood. “Nicky's going to go get you some water, yeah?” Kian was still looking down, so Mark quickly lifted a hand to his head to gesture a telephone and mouthed 'call Shane'. Nicky nodded, getting up. “You want a glass of water?”

“Yes please.” Kian nodded.

“I'll make a trip to the vending machine too. Get you some cheese and onion crisps.”

Kian nodded again, not looking at either of them. Mark reached out a hand, letting Kian take it. He felt it squeeze, trembling in his grasp.

Nicky left the room, glancing back over his shoulder.

 

*

 

Nicky dashed downstairs, pulling his phone out of his pocket and pressing down hard on the power button. It lit up, a cascade of missed calls and messages flashing down the screen. He ignored them in favour of finding Shane's number, pressing the call button as soon as he did.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Shane? Nicky. Slight emergency.”

There was a long pause.

“Is everything okay?” Shane said finally. “Is Mark okay?”

“Yeah, he's fine. Need a favour though.”

“...right?”

“Can you leave Ro running the shop for an hour or so? We've had a bit of a disaster. Kian's in trouble.”

“Kian?” There was slight panic in Shane's voice, which was extremely promising. “Is he okay? What's happened?”

“He's fine, but I need you to get here quickly, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course. I'll...” He could hear Shane moving around, the jingle of his keys, the thud of the office door closing. “I'm on my way. I'll be fifteen minutes.”

“Cheers.” Nicky said, trying to sound as serious as possible, even though he was trying not to giggle. The call cut out, so Nicky headed back upstairs, remembering at the last minute to make a pit-stop at the vending machine. He headed back in, stealing a couple of crisps before he handed the bag to Kian.

The blonde still looked a bit worse for wear, but he wasn't crying any more, was staring quite solemnly at his feet. The television was on, and Mark was trying to get him interested in one of those awful white trash talk shows they always watched. He didn't seem to even notice it was on.

Mark looked up, raising an eyebrow. Nicky gave him a thumbs up.

A nurse came by not long after to tell him he had a visitor. Once Nicky wandered down the hall he found Shane standing in the waiting room, looking thoroughly jittery. His jacket was buttoned wrong, and he was shifting nervously. Nicky went over to hug him, felt the nervous energy under his skin before he let go and began to lead Shane down the hall.

“Is everything okay?”

“Everything's fine. Just... hang here for a moment.” Nicky pushed the door open and entered, motioning for Shane to stand where he was, hidden from Kian's view by the doorframe. He just hoped the brunette was in earshot. He gave Mark the thumbs up.

Mark cleared his throat. It was a gross sound, full of snot. He did it again, sounding a bit clearer this time.

“Kian?”

Kian nodded, just slightly, staring at his own feet still. The bag of crisps was open between his feet, half-empty and ignored.

“Are you sure you don't want me to call Shane to come pick you up?”

Kian nodded again, wrapping his arms around himself and scratching his own shoulders, looking agitated.

“He won't come. He doesn't want to see me.” Nicky glanced at the boy beside him, letting him step a little closer so he could see the slumped form on the chair, the one staring down at his own lap. “I'm sorry. I'm a wreck. This isn't...” He sighed, and Nicky pushed Shane back a little bit when Kian threatened to sit up properly. He was staring at the ceiling now instead, head tipped right back. “I feel like a complete fuckwit. I thought there was maybe something there, you know? Enough to risk...” He sniffed, sounding almost as damp as Mark. “God, I fucked up. Threw it all away. Now look at me. I've got no-one. Don't have Jake. And fuck him, anyway, but at least he lo... loved me.”  
  
“You don't think Shane loves you?” Mark urged.

Kian shook his head. “He's my friend. Or he was. But he doesn't love me, not really. It was just... it was just a shag, wasn't it? And now you might be sick, and I might be sick, and I might have made Shane sick because I couldn't keep it in my pants. It's all my fault.”

“It's not...”

“Yeah okay.” He wiped his nose. “God, I'm just a mess. Of course Shane doesn't bloody want me. Sorry. I better go...” He went to stand up, but Nicky stepped forward to block his way.

“I'll call you a cab, Ki.” He offered, pushing him back into the chair. “You sit down. Have another glass of water, and I'll let you know when it's here, yeah?”

Kian looked like he was about to argue for a second, but then he stayed were he was, accepting the glass Mark handed him.

Nicky stepped back into the hall, pushing Shane until he could shut the door behind him. Shane looked lost, looked like he was about to cry, or throw up, or something. He swore instead.

“Shit. Fuck.”  
  
“What are you going to do?” Nicky demanded. Shane flinched back.

“I don't know. He's...” His eyes darted back to the closed door, the boy hidden on the other side. “You're not going to let him go home by himself, are you?”

“That's sort of up to you.” Nicky explained. “I have to stay here with Mark, don't I? So either he gets a taxi home, or...”

Shane bit his lip, his hands twisting together. Looked at the door again.

“Okay.” He breathed. “Right.”

 

*

 

Mark looked up as the door opened again. Kian's head was down again, so he didn't see Shane step in. Didn't even notice until Shane took two steps towards him. Then he did. His eyes shot up, fixed warily on Shane, then he turned an accusing glare on Mark, the chair skidding backwards as he tried to move away from the small brunette advancing on him, the packet of crisps accidentally kicked under the bed in his haste. He stood up, pushing past on the way to the door, but Nicky was in his way, hands up to hold him back.

“Fuck you.” He growled, obviously about to barge through, until...

“Kino...” Shane said quietly, his hand settling on Kian's shoulder. The blonde flinched away from it, spinning to face Shane. “How about I take you home, yeah?”

“I fucking told you...” Kian snarled, his eyes blazing when he glowered at Mark. Shane stepped forward, putting his hand back on Kian's shoulder. Then, slowly, he gathered the younger boy into his arms. Kian went stiff, his hands fisted at his sides. Then he made a sound somewhere between a sob and a breath, and laid his head on Shane's shoulder, slumping against his friend.

“I'll take you home.” Shane said again, stroking his hair. Kian's eyes were closed, his face turned into Shane's neck. “Come on, mate.” Kian was still for a moment, but then he nodded, his fisted hands coming up to tentatively uncurl and settle on Shane's waist. “We'll have a chat, okay?”

They left a moment later, Shane's hand on Kian's back, guiding him.

Nicky dropped into the chair Kian had vacated, raising his hand in invitation. Mark high fived him, then leaned over to look out the window, waiting until he saw two boys walking across the parking lot, arms protectively around each other.

 

*

 

“I spy with my little eye, something beginning with... B.”

“Oh god, not this.” Mark groaned. It was mid-afternoon and they were both well and truly bored. Mark was free to go home soon, once the doctor ran another check on him, and it was torture waiting for him. Nicky had gone out to check his phone again, about an hour after Shane and Kian had left. There had only been one new text message, this one from his mother, asking if he was free for lunch next week. He'd said yes, and apologised for not calling her back sooner, then headed back inside.

The Shane and Kian situation had gone far better than he'd hoped. Yeah, they hadn't exactly professed undying love for each other, and Nicky was pretty sure Shane had dropped Kian off at home, gotten him a bit cleaned up and then gone back to work. One of them had to, anyway, and it wasn't him. Still, it was a start, getting them to actually acknowledge that each other existed. Kian had just come off a long term relationship, and what he needed right now was friend, someone who cared. And Shane cared, more than he'd probably like to let on.

“It starts with B.” Nicky prompted. Mark groaned, looking around the room.

“Bedpan.”

“No.”

“Book.”

“No.”

“Bottle.”

“No.”

Mark sighed, leaning back to stare at the ceiling. Nicky didn't know how he was going to find anything up there. There was a knock at the door, and a doctor stuck his head in.

“Thank god.” He heard Mark whisper, and thought about being offended. Then the doctor was poking Mark again, giving them lots of instructions about bedrest and keeping his fluids up, and was letting them sign a couple of forms to get themselves the hell out of here.

Mark sat in a wheelchair on the way out. It was sort of fun, getting to push Mark. He almost considered climbing up on the back and riding it out like a scooter, but the severe looks on the nurses faces made him think that might not be the best idea. Mark got up when they got to the door, a little bit shaky on his legs, and they both squinted in the sudden sunlight, heading for the car.

“You didn't guess it.” Nicky pointed out when they were half-way home, the love of his life slouched in the passenger seat beside him.

“Oh... massive loss, that.” Mark deadpanned. “What was it then?”

“You can still guess it. It's in this car.”

Mark sighed, studying Nicky. “Best husband ever?”

“Thanks, but no. It's a thing, not a god.” He grinned, loving the careless laugh that tripped of Mark's lips, hoarse with illness but still very real. “Guess again.”

“Button.”

“No.”

“I give up.”

Nicky shot him a cheeky sidelong smile, felt Mark's hand come over to touch his thigh, thick, strong fingers squeezing the muscle.

“Buttonhole.”

“Oh, fuck off!” Mark laughed, turning to look out the window. Nicky chuckled, heading for home.

 

*

 

Saffy was delighted to see them. Mark fed her immediately, even though she still had half a bowl left of biscuits. She dashed through the house once she was done inhaling the food, doing laps of every room as though she'd been outside for twenty-four years instead of twenty-four hours. Then she ran back outside, peed excitedly on the fence, and fell asleep on the grass.

“Your dog is a lunatic.” Nicky accused.

“My dog, is it? Why is she our dog when she's being adorable and only my dog when she's obviously losing her mind?”

“Because I'd never have a dog that wasn't adorable.” He wandered over to Mark, putting his arms around his shoulders and feeling them press together. “Same thing with humans. It's why I keep you around.”

“What about when I'm losing my mind?”

“I make exceptions.” He tilted his head up for a kiss, sinking into the warm of Mark's lips, the clever fingers that trailed affectionately up his spine. “You're sick, though, so let's get you on the couch with some soup.” He nudged Mark over to the living room, opening the fridge to get out the chicken noodle from the day before and popping it in the microwave. He licked a couple of stray drops off his thumb on the way back to Mark, who was on the couch kicking his shoes off, fiddling with his phone.

There was a sharp intake of breath. Nicky leant over, peering at Mark's phone.

“Missed call.” Mark's voice was flat. “The doctor.”

“Shit.” Nicky came around to sit on the couch, already pressing into Mark's side, needing to feel him there. The call was from hours ago, from this morning. “Call her back.”

“I will.” Mark put his phone back on the coffee table and turned toward Nicky, holding his arms out. Nicky went, trying to absorb Mark through his skin, squeezing him as tight as he could without constricting his congested chest. He breathed in Mark's scent, his soap, the antiseptic from the hospital, the sickly sweat, the musk underneath it all. A hand carded into his hair. He held Mark close, kissing his shoulder.

They pulled back. Mark was staring at him. Nicky stared back, trying to make a picture in his head. Mark. Hold it inside himself for whenever he needed it.

“You ready for this?” Nicky asked. Mark shook his head.

“Not at all. But whatever happens...”  
  
“Whatever happens.” Nicky echoed, taking Mark's hand.


	9. Later

The hospital was quiet today. Mark sat in the waiting room reading a magazine. There was a celebrity wedding on the cover. He didn't know if he much gave a shit, but it was something to pass the time. He looked up when Nicky came out, smiling at the kiss dropped on his cheek.

“Want to get out of here?”

“I really do.” Mark stood up, yawning. “How was it?”

“Okay. Boring.” Nicky shrugged, poking at the bandaid on his arm. “But you know, necessary evil.”

Mark shrugged. He'd had his own test the week before, but Nicky hadn't been able to make the appointment and Mark needed the paperwork before he could get back to work. He knew the bosses would probably be lenient, but after the scare six months before he didn't like taking the risk. It had been one of the worst weeks of his life, waiting for the negative diagnosis, Now he just wanted it over and done with as soon as possible, that paperwork a total relief every time he saw it.

He'd stepped back a little bit on work, too. It wasn't so much the risk as it was getting little more time to himself, but it was still sort of comforting, knowing the less guys he shagged the less chance he had of picking up something dreadful. He only did three days a week now, and Nicky did four. Rowen spent more time taking charge instead, covering off a bit for Shane, as well.

He'd ended up buying himself a camera and was using the spare day by himself to learn how to use it, going out and having a tinker with various lenses and lighting. He thought he was getting quite good, or at least Nicky said he was, but then Mark knew he was profoundly biased. Still, he'd taken a rather nice shot of Shane and Kian together the week before, was thinking of giving it to them as a Christmas present once he found a nice frame. It was a cute picture, the two of them huddled up on a park bench, both with scarves and beanies on, hands linked around the same steaming mug of cocoa for warmth Shane was kissing Kian's cheek, his frosty breath making a tiny cloud against his ear

They walked across the parking lot, stopping only for Nicky to kick a can that some idiot had dropped on the road. It spun through the air, bounced off a parking ticket machine, and then dropped into the garbage bin beside it. Nicky whooped, jumping in triumph and punching the air.

“You see that? Still got it!”

“Definitely do.” Mark slapped him on the back in congratulations, then pulled him into a kiss. It was a long one, hard at first, then deep and lingering. Cold fingers clenched on the back of his neck, Nicky's chest moving faster against his until they were interrupted by the honk of a car. Nicky laughed, tugging them to the side to get out of the way.

“What was that for?”

“Just because.” He shrugged, bending to kiss Nicky again. Nicky accepted, his eyes dark when Mark pulled away. “General appreciation.”

“I generally appreciate you too.” Nicky slid into the driver's seat. Mark flicked on the radio, fiddled with it until he found a station he liked.

Nicky started to hum along. Mark joined in.

They sang together the whole way home.


End file.
